


Just Ice Skatey Things

by personafreak



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 21 yr old victor and 7 yr old yurio very seriously fighting for yuuri's love, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Crushes, Fingerfucking, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Morning Sex, Sleepovers, Sports Injury, chubster!Yuuri (think preseasonyuuri), figure skating, longhair!Victor, same age!AU, yurio is officially their child in chapter 4 it happens okay, yurio is still a smol angry bean but just smoller, zamboni ride
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-10 21:21:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8939803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/personafreak/pseuds/personafreak
Summary: Victor was born in a world in which every little movement both on and off the ice was a flawless performance. Yuuri was born in a world that emphasized eating katsudon as quickly as possible without choking. Victor is an eccentric foreigner revolutionizing the figure skating world, and Yuuri is just trying to survive his part-time job at the ice skating rink.College!AU, same age.





	1. Zamboni

His hands were a little chapped from the general chill of the ice rink; he'd forgotten his gloves yet again, but it didn't keep him from handling each pair of skates that came into contact with his fingers. The reddened, rough patches between his fingers were nothing more than a lesser degree of an occupational hazard. Yuuri gingerly swiped the microfiber clothe over the entirety of the boot, carefully sliding them back into their respectively sized shelves once they were cleaned, before taking out the next pair. He didn't wear much other than a face frozen in thought, much like the tips of his fingers.

Beautifully soft, well kept hands were expressing themselves on the ice, carried by legs that moved over in intricate swirls, spins, through eager steps, and jumps. His expression always succumbed to the bliss of his art, lips perpetually caught in a silent grin. Whereas someone worked to shroud themselves in concentration, concentration worked to encompass _him._ Victor was an idea, a spirit who refused to be caught. His movements were less careful and less predictable, the type that could captivate a million. The _world_ was his audience.

 _However_ , his coach was not one of the millions that heedlessly loved him. "Не импровизировать..." The harsh sounding, foreign language quickly snapped Yuuri's gaze up from his work. "придерживаться программы!" the older man's shouts echoed from within the vast room's open acoustics, slowing Victor's movements.

Yuuri slowly let his eyes fall back down toward the skates in his lap, his finger rubbing the clothe over the harder to reach places. Even with the double doors separating the front entrance from the rink area itself, Yuuri heard nearly everything.

_You son of a_ _Matryoshka... you better not shit on my ice!_

He had no idea what this clearly Russian coach was saying, but Yuuri didn't have to be bilingual to know that the coach was _yelling_ whatever he said, and he didn't look happy about it. The glasses clad male had been present for so many of these figure skating practices, where there seemed to be more yelling than skating, that Yuuri had amused himself with silly mad-libs. The guy on the receiving end of these imagined insults didn't look very interested in what his coach had to say, and seemed to make the same mistakes judging from the words Yuuri recognized once the coach started shouting again. And again.

Yuuri knew now that both the coach and his pupil were very famous. It'd taken his manager/ex-crush, Yuuko, about five times to really ingrain that into him.

" _Victor Nikiforov._ Like _the_ Victor, skating at _our_ rink." He remembered how each part of her body seemed excited, and how quickly angry she got when he disinterestedly asked who Wikutoru Nikiforofu was to her face.

"I told you like _five times_ already! What kind of guy works at an ice skating rink and doesn't know _Victor Nikiforov_? I could have you fired for this." She couldn't, but she used this threat often anyway.

"I just got _Netflix_." Yuuri lamented as if it was a valid excuse, his shoulders dropping in resignation of the impending lecture he was about to receive for the sixth time. He should've just kept it to himself that he'd already forgotten about the skater.

"He's breezed through every competition, gold metal after gold metal, won his first big worldwide competition at sixteen?" Yuuri had this dumb look on his face that didn't go away after she spoke. "No? Still not ringing a bell? Super hot Victor?- _you know what_ , you're a lost cause."

Yuuri didn't remember this supposedly famous figure skater, but he did remember how long her last rant was, and he was secretly grateful that she'd given up on him.

After that conversation, when that particular shift ended and he'd returned to his dorm room, he had the thought to research this skating celebrity but it was quickly drowned out with 'homework', which was really him binge-watching some new show and stressing about the homework he should've really been doing. Needless to say, there was not even one googled 'Victor Nikiforov' in his entire search history. When Victor arrived for his first day of practice at the new rink, Yuuri felt a little nervous because he _didn't_ know anything about the guy, and for some reason he was scared he'd get quizzed about him. Yuuko, Yuuri's manager, had ditched her Friday morning class just to give Victor and his coach a personal tour. The coach already knew his way around the rink; despite being _very clearly_ Russian, his home of residency had been in this very clearly Japanese city, and supposedly Victor had hunted and chased him down just to be taught by him. Yuuri still didn't get why he had to be here when Yuuko was here, awkwardly introducing himself when Yuuko elbowed him hard enough, forcing him to step forward.

It was with one look that Yuuri realized they lived in totally different worlds. Victor's smile was angelic, everything about the sparkle in his eyes to the way he carried himself rang with the kind of confidence that'd come when you'd look good your whole life, and planned to look good for the rest of it. His silver hair was pulled back in what looked like a messy bun on the top of his head, which Yuuri was pretty sure that _nothing_ messy belonged on this new foreign stranger in his life. He wore some kind of sports jersey jacket, some shorts below that, and thick, black tights that spanned over long, toned legs. Victor was taller than Yuuri, but only by a little, and it was such a small height difference that it pissed off Yuuri a little into thinking that maybe, if he believed in himself a little more, he could outgrow the distance. That way they could be equal in _something_.

"I'm... Katsuki, Yuuri. I work here. Part-time."

The shorter of the two males was the poster child for the averagely unkempt college student. He'd hid his messy black hair and his red ears in a beanie. His glasses were getting more and more steamed from the contrast of cool glass and his heated cheeks. Yuuri was in no way unhealthily overweight, but he wore that baggy sweater for a reason. His face didn't show it, but his tummy was soft around the edges with baby fat, which he was in college now so he couldn't use that excuse, and Yuuko squeezed his love handles whenever she could catch him off guard. Some collected at his thighs too, but he doubted she'd be squeezing _those_ any time soon. He'd learned quickly to wear his warmer pants to work, and a simple pair of sneakers underneath that were nothing as graceful as Victor's demure looking flats. Yuuri's eyes floated on down in a shy nod of his head, before Yuuko not too slyly shoved him again, and he remembered what she'd made him memorize the night before. _Nice to meet you... in Russian. Good luck, me_. "Pr-Priyato... nouu... pozunakomitsu... ya?" Japassian. Russapan? It was an undesirable mix of the two languages, and Yuuri managed to make it sound like a question. He expected a slap on the face from everyone in the room as a favor to him.

But Victor looked _amazed_ , and something in Yuuri went warm and soft. "приятно познакомиться!" Victor's voice was pleasantly big for someone with such soft facial features, his hand grabbing ahold of Yuuri's for a strong, steady shake that the latter wasn't entirely prepared for. " _Thank you_ , Yuuri. I am Victor. It's nice to meet you, too." Yes, Victor's Japanese was much better than Yuuri's _attempt_ at Russian. There was a noticeable accent, but Victor was fluent to the point where Yuuri's shoulders started to relax.

"To start fresh, there's no better place than the ice, yes?" Victor released Yuuri's hand and smiled between the couple of Japanese. "May I try out the rink?" the stunning male politely asked, earning a strange new giggle out of Yuuko that Yuuri was _sure_ she'd practiced just for the foreigner. "Of _course_! ... Can we watch?"

Oh no. Yuuri's eyes widened, and he was leaning in toward the brunette woman. "I've- -uhh- -gotta get the rentals ready though, take stock n' stuff," he nervously reminded her, earning a roll of her eyes as she walked off, leading Victor and his coach out of the entrance. Victor might've looked back and over his shoulder, but Yuuri's attention had since diverted back to last night's latest episode of _Black Mirror_ , and that quiz he had coming up on Monday.

From then on, interaction was brief and little. Yuuri only opened on Thursdays and Fridays, then opened and closed on weekends with Yuuko. Each morning Thursday through Sunday, Victor would enthusiastically greet him. Every Saturday and Sunday afternoon, he'd brightly bid farewell no matter how grueling and long practices seemed to be for him. Supposedly, Victor now attended the same college, but Yuuri never saw him on campus, or out on the town. Even if Yuuri wasn't seeing him all the time, he got enough flack about him from Yuuko and other girls at his college asking about it.

"получить голову из облаков!"

_No borscht for you tonight if you don't get your ass in gear!_

Yuuri snorted to himself, replacing the last pair of skates on the rack before standing up at the counter, his chin relaxing on an open palm, elbows on the countertop. That last outburst sounded angrier than the last, and with a sharp burst through the door, Victor's coach was walking out. He called out a "Good bye" in Russian-tinged Japanese, for Yuuri's sake as he always did, and the part-timer settled back into his comfortable position. That was his usual mode of exit, so Yuuri was reassured that Victor's coach hadn't quit on him. He wasn't even sure why he worried in the first place.

He'd wait for Victor to come through those double doors, give him an obligatorily half-assed smile on Victor's way out, and then he'd feel that same rush of relief that came with Victor's absence. It definitely wasn't the skater's fault; but Yuuri was definitely intimidated by his godlike existence. Yuuko revered Victor as a god, so it was hard for Yuuri not to at least be a _little_ wary of him.

The doors opened much more quietly this time, and Victor's body slid right through the opening, just as smooth off the ice as he was on it, Yuuri guessed. Skates were missing from their usual spot on Victor's shoulder, and he wasn't carrying his duffel bag. His lithe hips seemed to cock to one side as his hands glided up through his hair, gently tugging the ponytail holder, until his silver tresses were spilling over his shoulder. Yuuri's throat went dry, seeing the Russian star advance toward the counter, making Yuuri anxiously back off of it as he stood up, wondering what this meant. Victor _never_ approached the counter. His pretty blue eyes were focused on the board hanging on the wall above the columns of skates, displaying prices for group skating, rentals, and the like.

"I made the arrangements with Yuuko last night," Victor's tone was light, airy, as he answered the question asked by Yuuri's face. Arrangements? _Last night_? Victor's smile turned more playful, and now _his_ elbows were on the counter, his body leaning forward. "My new friends from the college are coming to skate. So, I need about..." Victor slipped one hand below the counter, fiddling before he brought back a credit card, sliding it over the table. "Twenty pairs."

"That's a _lot_ of friends," Yuuri blurted, honestly not trying to be funny or talkative or any _thing_ as he brought out the planner and set it over the counter space that Victor's sleeve covered arms weren't currently occupying. Victor laughed, and Yuuri grinned despite himself, opening the planner. His finger pushed up his glasses as he nosed through to that day's date, scanning the entry that had the rink completely booked for two hours. He felt something brush against his forehead, his eyes flickering up and widening once he saw how close Victor's face had become, their foreheads barely brushing as Victor revealed just how little he cared for personal space.

Yuuri slowly pulled his face back, his head swerving in the way of the cash register with Victor's card in tow. "I can ring up those skates for you. Probably don't have the sizes yet, huh?"

"I _don't,_ I apologize. Ah, make that twenty- _one_ skates."

Yuuri gave a simple smile to the register. "... 's no problem. You think of someone else to add in?

"Yes! _You._ " Once the words had sunk in long enough to notice, the dark haired male looked up at that heart shaped smile that seemed to breathe ' _You're_ welcome _you filthy mortal'._

The smile turned apologetic, and very _very_ nervous, because he was dead sure Yuuko would find some way to fire him for turning down the God of Ice. "S-Sorry, I have to stay out here and watch the entrance," Yuuri excused, a little flattered that the chance was offered to him, even if it seemed condescending. "I don't skate, either."

The first excuse Victor might have bought, but the other one had him raising a perfectly thin eyebrow in suspicion. "You _don't_ skate? Or you _can't_? _"_

Yuuri tugged both sides of his beanie downward, feeling the heat in his cheeks bloom down his neck when Victor said it out loud. "I should go clear the ice," he mumbled, earning too sweet of a good-natured laugh out of Victor, who clearly was put on this Earth to skate and fill Yuuri's ears with his laughter. Yuuri ignored him and headed back through the double doors, going for the zamboni parked around the rink, setting things up for a proper renewal of the ice Victor and his friends would skate on. The more he worked, the more he noticed Victor was close behind, watching with wholehearted interest.

"It's just a zamboni," Yuuri breathed in slight irritation when Victor hovered over his shoulder. The silver haired male caught the hint, backing up a little as Yuuri climbed up the tall vehicle, and sat in the single seat. "I _know_ , but... I've never ridden in one!" He clapped his thin gloved hands together, as if begging in a very Japanese way, his tongue playfully sticking out. "Please let me ride with you~"

It was a one-seater. There wasn't really another place for Victor to stand or sit, and Yuuri looked increasingly troubled. Before he could complain, Victor was already hoisting himself up the steps, his feet shuffling over the little space they had on the floor, before he dropped himself sideways onto Yuuri's lap. This forced Yuuri to grasp onto him with the suddenness of all, instinctively afraid Victor would fall off. The Russian student's arms casually draped around Yuuri's shoulders, connecting behind his neck, and Yuuri wasn't really sure when it'd be appropriate to retrieve his hands from the skater's legs and the small of his back.

Victor's _ass_ was on Yuuri's lap. The ass that Yuuri had become very familiar with every day as he watched it walk out the doors of the rink when he thought Victor would never notice. "Uh... uhh. It's really not that... _safe_? Like this. I mean, I've never..." Yuuri murmured, strangely moved by the childish determination that shone in Victor's face, which neared his own. Victor's expression softened and one hand slipped from Yuuri's shoulder, taking hold of the skating-virgin's hand, bringing it to the steering wheel. He then adjusted the other hand's grip, more or less _forcing_ Yuuri to hold Victor with more assurance, indefinitely keeping him in place on Yuuri's lap.

He replaced his hand over Yuuri's shoulder, his voice praising the part-time worker with every syllable. "You can drive with one hand, yes?" He looked up at the other from underneath long, light eyelashes, and Yuuri felt his beanie start to slip from his head. Victor had started pulling off the hat until Yuuri could feel the cool of the air prickling at his scalp. He didn't mind the loss of heat as he watched Victor mischievously stuff it onto his own head, with a breathtaking grin on his lips.

Defeated, Yuuri reached around Victor's back to start the engine, the corner of his lips twitching upward as Victor happily exclaimed something in Russian. Yuuri reached up to tug the beanie further around Victor's head, until it fit properly, before backing the vehicle onto the ice. He felt Victor's arms tighten around him, and in response his hand squeezed the bottom of Victor's thigh, his hand uncannily close to his ass cheek. He couldn't bring himself to touch further up.

Yuuri managed to do an okay job, considering that he was going one-handed, and Victor's ass wiggled on top of his lap each time the zamboni shook. Granted, Victor was also asking a multitude of questions which Yuuri claimed he couldn't hear through the noise of the engine, which had Victor cupping his hand around Yuuri's ear just to exaggeratedly enunciate the repeat question.

"If you can't skate, why do they let you work here?" It wasn't meant to be accusatory, or mean spirited, but any chance of Yuuri being offended quickly left the rink as he felt the warm buzz of lips against his earlobe. Victor laughed heartily and all but pressed his ear into Yuuri's lips, watching ice as they moved past it. "Not sure!" Yuuri spoke, guiding them around in slow, steady circles to smooth over every inch of ice. "I just applied, and... well, as you can see, 'm making up for it with the zamboni."

"And the skates!" Victor quipped back, his lips incidentally close enough to Yuuri's, able to feel his excited huffs ghost hotly over his lips. "They always look _very_ pristine."

" _Pristine_." Yuuri tried on his lips, laughing when the word held none of the magic for him that it seemed to hold for Victor. "Thank you, thank you. I, a- - _haha_ \- -work hard." Yuuri kept his eyes on the ice, occasionally looking toward Victor's close features as he beamed from where he sat on his lap. Victor looked for all the world like it was the greatest adventure of his young life, which had to end eventually.

He pulled the vehicle into the storage room, carefully parking it and turning off the engine, feeling Victor's body settle against his again. "Well, it's not really _working hard_ ," Yuuri added, taking his feet off the pedals and resting them on the floor, his hands releasing his grip on the skater. "I mean, _you're_ doing all this training, and you've won a lot of competitions." They'd just had such a fun time, and Yuuri was rambling. Was he just _destined_ to kill every fun opportunity that came his way? "Compared to all that, I'm not really doing _anything_ , so." Yuuri had already resigned to himself that this bit of fun would end sourly, looking emphatically toward the ground to get Victor moving off him.

Instead, he received a very cool, calm gaze. Those blue eyes were analyzing Yuuri's face, and soon Victor's hands were joining them, pulling lightly at the base of his neck. "There's nothing wrong with having pride in what you do, no matter how big or small it may seem," Victor encouraged, his forehead dipping into Yuuri's, until the Japanese boy felt comfort in the sensation of his own beanie pressing into his skin. A god convincing an ant that it was important. It seemed highly unlikely.

"... But there _is_ something wrong with you not being able to skate." Victor teased, glowing with pride once he earned the return of a smile on Yuuri's lips. His nimble fingers worked on returning the beanie to its rightful owner, pulling the edges down over Yuuri's ears, smoothing it over with his palms. "Let me teach you sometime! You can impress _Yuuko,_ and then she won't be able to resist."

Yuuri's smile disappeared into a frown straightaway, which had Victor full of even more mirth, in some way. How did this little player find out about Yuuri's stale crush?

Victor answered, again, without Yuuri having to ask. "I see the way you look at her. I think it's very sweet, working here for her." Spooky. How had Victor been able to guess that in the first month he was here? Yuuri hadn't told _anyone_.

But still, for some weird reason, Yuuri felt the need to defend himself. "No, I- -whatever _that_ was when I started working here, it's gone." Yuuri tried to make himself clear, wincing when Victor's eyes darted between his. "I don't like her anymore, so I wouldn't be trying to impress _her._ " He finally spat out, watching Victor process. Then Victor was leaning in closer, his hands now on the front of the ravenette's sweater.

"I do not impress easily." Victor sounded stern, but nothing like his coach. Yuuri knew exactly what he was alluding to, and part of the challenge was not freaking out or getting even more red. He was already failing that.

So _what_ if he kind of surrendered his heart to Victor?

"You're on," it left the Japanese male in a breath, before he was remembering where they were and where _he_ had to be. "Now get off."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The calm before the storm.

It'd been about a month since Victor invited all those people and sat on Yuuri's lap, ruining him for any other ass that'd sit on him. Well, no one else was really in line for the opportunity anyway, so. He remembered how happily Victor interacted with each member, all of them easy 10s in the looks department. Sparse ends of Victor's hair floated in the static electricity left over from Yuuri's beanie. One by one they collected their skates, most crowding around Victor in their excitement while Yuuri fretted around, trying to get everyone's size. Sometimes while the popular Russian excitedly chatted, his eyes flickered over to Yuuri, and it felt like a secret was shared between them.

Things seemed to go much more smoothly between them, after that. Yuuri wasn't nearly as afraid of him, and it was safe to say that he might've started liking him, a little bit. Victor always had something interesting to say, and he was always happy to see Yuuri, so it was kind of hard _not_ to like the guy.

Yuuri had also become slightly accustomed to Victor's closeness. Sometimes, when Victor's practices ended early, or started late, he'd join Yuuri behind the counter to warm up. After about the eleventh set of very tricky looking stretches, he'd huddled with Yuuri, his hand extended on the tabletop in between them, showing off the video on his phone. Yuuri was watching with half interest, and Victor's close proximity shared the other half of his focus. "Isn't it _cold_?" Victor chirped in all his foreignness, smoothly pressing the side of his body against Yuuri's, who steeled himself to keep still and calm, his breathing hitching a little. Victor felt perfectly warm, but Yuuri wasn't about to push him off. " _Yeah_." he lied, when just _seeing_ Victor automatically warmed his body. He felt like a teenager, constantly battling his hormones and urges over this pretty silver haired boy that'd effortlessly skated into his life.

He could smell the shampoo wafting from Yuuri's long hair, some of which draped over his own shoulder as Victor leaned in closer. "See that _overrated_ quadruple loop? Because of it, he scored higher than me last year in the first round, but I won overall, so..." Even Victor's _full of himself_ smirk looked pretty, his eyes impishly dancing his his thumb swiped over his phone. "Wow. That's... pretty amazing." Yuuri had no idea what a quadruple loop was, but he agreed it was _very_ overrated when you had an actual incubus snuggling up to your side. Yuuri was bad at flirting, but Victor loved compliments, so he was easy to figure out.

"I will crush him until he drops off map~" Victor informed with two grave nods of his head, his threat sounding unnatural with his soft accent. Yuuri thought it was _adorable_.

"... You can't just _crush_ people, Victor." he reprimanded softly, earning a coy look out of the skilled artist.

"No?"

Yuuri tried to keep his face straight, his forehead bumping into Victor's. " _No_."

Victor was the first to smile, easing the tension off of Yuuri's forehead as he tilted his face, until their noses brushed. "Then, I'll crush them _lightly_?" Victor's breath was light, Yuuri's heart felt light, his _head_ was definitely light.

Yuuri's mind swam with all the many things he could say in return, but in the end he went with the truth.

" _How do you do that_?"

Catching Victor by surprise was a beautiful thing, because it rarely happened, and it was fleeting, readily replaced with a cheeky smile. "Do _what?_ " His face pulled back some, mercifully giving Yuuri space to think. His fingers reached to push up his own glasses and they drooped again when he tilted his face downward. Victor's fingers were already smoothing the plastic of his frames back up, stroking one arm over Yuuri's reddened ear.

"You're so good at making people warm up to you," was the best way Yuuri could put it, his words slow and thoughtful. Victor's hand pulled away and he thought about it, his arms folding across the table, resting his head on top of them, letting his ass jut out behind them. "Making new friends has never been a problem for me~" Victor bragged, but the way he said it, it should've been obvious that he'd be able to make friends so easily. His eyes traced the entrance of the building as he thought about it a little more, his smile deepening as he looked back toward Yuuri. "I think a _lot_ of it is confidence. It's like power; people are _drawn_ to it." Oh, Yuuri was definitely drawn.

He faltered, his shoulder leaving the comforting warmth of Victor's. "Confidence." Yuuri repeated as _confidently_ as he was able, sighing after he'd quickly given up on the idea. "I don't have any."

Victor rolled his eyes, his back arching as he lifted his head. "Of _course_ you have some. _Relax_. Become comfortable. Let it out naturally." Everything Victor said sounded great, but Yuuri still felt anxiety because he and Victor were worlds apart, and he felt like Victor wasn't understanding him. "It's not _natural_ for everyone, Victor. Not everyone's a gold medalist with a crazy social media game."

Yuuri wondered why they were still having this conversation anyway. "You were confident before, when we were on zamboni." Victor's arms gestured big, as if Yuuri needed it to remember the place where he'd lost his lap virginity. And his _breathing in the same space as another person_ virginity. "That was... we were having fun."

"And just now. When we did _this._ " Victor was close again, nuzzling his forehead into Yuuri's until his little button nose was wiping off Yuuri's glasses. He laughed, reaching up between them to fix his glasses again, unable to stop himself from encouraging Victor.

"You're very _charming,"_ Yuuri reasoned, his fingers lacing as one of his shoulders dropped, and he was trying to casually play off the compliment he gave, but he was already feeling his cheeks burn. "I... kinda forget about myself when I'm with you." That was also true. Victor was very good at getting Yuuri comfortable. Yuuko got him comfortable too, but he really felt at home when Victor was giving him attention.

Victor's eyes had locked in on Yuuri, as if he were totally encompassed. That, or he'd just found a new toy. He hoisted himself up onto the counter behind him, his hands at his sides as his legs kicked childishly below him, swinging over the edge. "Is it because I am _handsome_?" He sang happily, delighting in Yuuri as he gave away the answer with an irresistible smile.

"A little. Maybe."

"I know, _I know._ It's not fair, being in the presence of one so _beau-_ tiful."

Yuuri had to keep his smile dry, even though he badly wanted to indulge Victor's adorably large ego. "Alright, that's enough outta you... where's your coach, Victor? He's pretty late, isn't he?"

It'd been like Victor had been waiting for Yuuri to ask, tilting his face to the side with a knowing smile. "Practice was canceled today."

Yuuri still looked confused, his body remaining motionless as his eyes nervously flittered to the exit. "Then... what are _you_ hanging around here for?"

Victor puffed out his cheeks in what Yuuri assumed was irritation, nodding toward the shelves. "Go get my size: 10s. _What are you hanging around here for_ , why do you _think?_ " He waited expectantly until Yuuri started to move, filing right to the men's 10s, pulling out a pair that undoubtedly lacked in the quality that the superstar was used to, but he obediently brought them back. Victor kicked off one shoe, his leg rising, offering Yuuri his sock covered foot.

"Put them on for me."

It wasn't a request, and it was so much more than a command. Victor said it like he was giving Yuuri the chance of a _lifetime_. That Victor could offer this chance to anyone, but he generously gave this position to Yuuri, who wasn't as amused. He huffed and walked forward, placing one skate on the counter beside Victor, taking hold of Victor's thin ankle. He guided Victor's foot into the shoe, and something felt intimate about the way they handled it. Yuuri heard Victor's right shoe fall to the floor, and soon he felt soft pressure run down his abdomen, resting at his thigh.

"So _soft_!" Victor happily remarked, his foot lightly bouncing in the plush of Yuuri's thigh. "I noticed when I sat on your lap, but... you're a little _round_ , aren't you?"

Yuuri harshly yanked the ties of Victor's skate, grumbling with a reddened face, "Well so _\- -rry_ for not being up to _your_ standards."

"A-Ah, no, it wasn't meant to be an _insult_!" Victor grinned innocently, making Yuuri's heart flutter even if he still felt a little overly self conscious about his weight. "It's not a lot, but _some_ round goes a long way- -ahh, a little tighter, милашка." So flexible was Victor that he easily leaned forward, his chest pressing into his knee as he angled his foot perfectly within the foot, gripping the ties and giving them more firm pulls, showing Yuuri the proper way to do it. "It needs to be tight, for support. You will protect my ankles like this." It felt thrilling knowing that Yuuri's actions could safeguard Victor while he was on ice, or destroy him. The sharp blade pointed downward, and soon Victor was leaning back on his hands, plopping his other foot onto Yuuri's _chest_ this time, his toes wiggling. Yuuri let the foot fall into his hands, his thumb smoothing over the arch between the pads of Victor's feet, watching his face give in to the pleasure. His eyes centered where the sock ended, and where what looked like an ace bandage wrap began. His eyes were darting over it, his hand pushing up the layer Victor wore over his leg to get a better look, worried suddenly. "What's this?" He didn't know much about skating, but this didn't look normal. And didn't Victor's right ankle look just a little more swollen than the left?

Victor looked down carelessly, shrugging his shoulders as he focused upward. "It's an... extra safeguard. I wear it before competitions. It is nothing to look so worried over, Yuuri." His hand reached up, fingers dragging down a cheek, playing with a little bit of Yuuri's chin. His hand was swatted away, and Yuuri was concentrating again. He wasn't going to bug Victor about something he had no knowledge of.

Victor watched Yuuri dress the extremity with care, ensuring Victor's foot was completely inside before tying it tightly. His fingers reached for the skate blocks, so Victor could walk through those double doors and into the rink area, but Victor was quickly tugging Yuuri's body back to him, spreading his legs so Yuuri could stand in between them. "Carry me in, and I'll show you something _good_." Victor promised, sliding his arms around Yuuri's shoulders, as he had on the zamboni those weeks ago.

Yuuri nervously scooped his hands underneath Victor's legs until Victor was held against his chest, one hand supporting Victor's back, and the other arm supporting underneath Victor's knees, sliding him off the counter and grunting. "You're... mngh... a little heavier than I expected."

" _Big breakfast_." Victor nuzzled his face into the warmth of Yuuri's neck, the owner of which shivered. Victor's cheeks and nose were cold, but his lips were just the right amount of softness and warmth, and it had him distracted the whole time he carried Victor into the rink.

No one was due to skate until it opened for the public in a couple hours, but Yuuri felt a little conflicted about leaving his post. Still, he managed to make it all the way to the rink, only readjusting his grip on Victor once, slowly easing him to the ground. "Good, goo- -!" Victor's right skate gave way onto the ice and Yuuri's hands shot out on reflex, catching Victor before he smacked onto the ground, their faces uncannily close.

The Russian looked scared, as he should've felt after the near accident. But Yuuri's feet were rooted on the ground, and his arms were so strong. Victor clung to him, feeling Yuuri ease up real slow, keeping Victor close.

Something about the vulnerability on Victor's features excited Yuuri, and for once he had an advantage, Victor's face was just a little lower than his own. "You... okay?" he murmured softly, watching Victor's pupils return to normalcy, his fair cheeks filling with color.

Shyness suited Victor, too.

"... I am okay. Thank you."

Something was left unsaid between them, and Victor was skating out of Yuuri's arms before he could blink, leaving behind any sign weakness. First he was skating around the peripheries of the rink, gaining speed and slowing in what Yuuri assumed was a warm up. Yuuri watched the hypnotizing motion of Victor's hair, blowing behind him as he skated, sometimes billowing forward whenever Victor's body dipped or slowed, following his body's momentum. Yuuri's eyes then fell to the breezily thin, white blouse Victor wore, the neck long and deep, showing the dark under armor beneath stretching from the base of his neck to his thin wrists. When Victor lifted his arms, Yuuri noticed the short length of the shirt ride up, exposing more of the undershirt that hugged Victor's frame. There was the definition in his arms, the sweet give of Victor's abdomen, the way his pectorals expanded as he lifted his arms, down to each line of his body. Below that was something akin to shorts, fluttering high on his thighs with the span of dark material down below, alluringly fitting the contours of his legs.

By the time Victor skated back to him, his hair was lightly fringed with static hairs that escaped from the main body of his hair, his expression polished with pure mirth, cheeks heated from the light exertion. "Choose a song," he panted lightly, digging his phone from the pocket of his shorts and handing it over to Yuuri, who questioningly looked at the video app provided. " _Any_ song," Victor clarified, nodding confidently. "I will skate it for you." He took off again before Yuuri could react, his body traveling to the center of the ice.

What was Yuuri supposed to pick? Something upbeat? Classical? Victor said _any_ song, but the unlimited possibilities paradoxically _limited_ Yuuri, somehow. The challenge was there, to give Victor something _he_ couldn't even skate to, but Yuuri conceded defeat and just picked a favorite of his.

The music began, and so did Victor.

Yuuri's hand carefully set the phone on the railing, joining it with his elbows as he kept his eyes on the skater. He should've expected nothing less than perfection, but this was the first time Yuuri had really seen him skate, outside of a video that Yuuko showed him, and he couldn't believe his eyes. Victor quickly molded himself into the rhythm and became very much a part of that song, until he made it his own. This was _Victor's_ song, now. The Russian marvel expressed himself in his fingers, from the way they traced down his own body as he glided over the ice, using much more than the myriad of emotions he openly displayed over the pretty features of his face. No, he was _much_ more than a pretty face, and he showed it to Yuuri, explosively.

Victor's skating devoured Yuuri body and soul.

He knew now why Yuuko and millions of others were obsessed. This was the real deal, right in front of him, gracing Yuuri with a brief glance every so often, seeming to say _'You're mine and you don't even know it'_ , which honestly Yuuri could've interpreted it in so many ways. At least, he couldn't believe someone like _Victor_ would want anything to do with someone like _him_.

The first jump caught Yuuri by surprise. Victor's skates left the ice and he was rotating blindingly fast, dipping back over the ice with an almost eerie certainty. More momentum, more speed, and Victor cracked a combination of spins. Yuuri's hands tightened over the thick railing, leaning over in his excitement, lips parted in breathtaking awe. He didn't even care that Victor was smirking at him now, too enraptured and impressed to do anything other than gawk.

The next high spin in the air had Yuuri's hand slapping up to his forehead, taking a handful of hair in between his fingers as he sighed in further astonishment. Yuuri didn't want the music stop, he didn't want Victor to stop, but the song was already fading, and Victor assumed a pose, his hands extended for Yuuri as his chest heaved, panting in the silence.

Moments passed and he started skating toward the same way he'd entered, moving more quickly once Yuuri opened his arms.

Victor clung to the edge of the ice rink once he reached it, his body slamming against the barrier because it'd be faster than slowing down on his own. He impatiently untied his boots and threw them off to the side, hopping shoeless into Yuuri's arms. He didn't know why he was accepting Victor's weight again, his body rocking back with it. He didn't know _why_ they were hugging now, but it just felt right. His hands could feel Victor's body through his shirt, his chin resting over an exposed shoulder, with only Victor's undershirt separating skin. Victor's hands were pulling at the sides of Yuuri's shirt, readjusting for a better grip on him as his breathing calmed. It was a few moments of this, before Yuuri's voice cracked into the silence.

"I just needed to know you were real."

A muffled giggle spilled out of Victor, who pulled apart just to shine his bright smile in Yuuri's direction. " _Now_ every time you hear that song, you will think of me, yes?" Victor's hands slid up between them, his hands smoothing the sweatshirt around Yuuri's waist. Feeling the touch, the ravenette shivered, sinking more into Victor. "And every time _I_ hear the song, I will also think of _you,_ because you chose it for me." Victor's voice was lower, reaching Yuuri more deeply. Victor's face shifted closer, and some how their arms managed to switch positions, because Yuuri's hands were clinging around Victor's trim waist and Victor's hands were holding Yuuri's shoulders still.

He wasn't sure what Victor wanted, holding Yuuri like that, but he patiently stared into clear blue eyes, watching the sudden trepidation in Victor. "Yuuri, I want you to... give me something to come back to. You know, to inspire me while I'm competing."

Yuuri's eyes dropped, remembering that Victor would be leaving soon. He'd been training all semester for this, so of course he'd be heading off. Victor would be coming back for school exams, to train for the next competitions, but how soon that was depended on how poorly he did. If Victor's skating moments ago had any indication of how well he'd do, Victor wouldn't be returning any time soon.

The fact that Victor was asking this of Yuuri kicked in, and he looked up at him from their small height difference, unsure. "What, like... a pep talk?"

Victor sheepishly averted his gaze, betraying that he had something else in mind, but he wasn't about to unload it on the other. " _Yes_. Something of that nature."

The burden felt too heavy for Yuuri, who had no idea what to say in situations like this but _good luck_ and _break a leg_ , neither of which felt appropriate for how much more Victor had come to mean to him.

"Ah! That's right." Yuuri pepped up with his idea, and Victor fondly awaited his revelation. "How do you say _good luck_ in Russian?"

Victor's face pulled back some, then neared Yuuri's, his thumb grazing up Yuuri's jawline, tugging on his earlobe. "Я тебя люблю... I can say it as many times as you need, if it's too difficult." Victor's hand was stroking through Yuuri's hair now, feeling it shake from side to side underneath his palm. "No, I think I've got it." Yuuri leaned forward and Victor's face dipped to the side of him, so Yuuri could speak into Victor's ear.

He paused, the Russian clear in his mind. He knew he'd probably screw it up, and he faltered last minute, whispering quietly. "What was it again?"

"Я тебя... люблю." Something about Victor's voice in his ear, murmuring the foreign language so quietly, had Yuuri's cheeks burning. Something about it was stirring him up inside, and without a second thought he was pressing a small kiss into Victor's cheek. The Russian stilled, and Yuuri was pulling back on the kiss, rubbing his cheek into Victor's to murmur into _his_ ear this time.

"Ya tebya... lyublyu."

Victor's arms held him tightly, but he seemed to melt in Yuuri's embrace. It felt so personal, saying good luck, earning a flutter of kisses up Yuuri's neck as Victor spoke into his skin. "Мой милый ангел. Thank you, Yuuri." Victor's smile made everything worth it, Yuuri laughing softly as Victor peppered his face with more kisses.

The picture perfect moment ended when Victor relented he actually _had_ some school work to attend to, but not before he hugged Yuuri about a million times and promised he'd see Yuuri before he left for the next competition.

Practices were getting longer, leaving less time for Victor to hang behind the desk with Yuuri. Their last day of practice before Victor would leave had Yuuri feeling nervous for him. Yuuri had already looked up each venue and even researched some of Victor's competitors. It was the first time he was actively into skating, and Yuuko was happy to introduce him to Victor's world. They'd even planned to watch his tournaments together at her place.

"Yuuko can get the competition on her big screen, so we'll be cheering you on together!" Yuuri explained excitedly, Victor's eyes flickering disinterestedly toward Yuuri's brunette manager, before turning his smile full force on Yuuri. "As long as you're watching, victory is assured. I'll be crushing _lots_ of people, Yuuri."

The Japanese male animatedly leaned over the counter at the sound of their inside joke. "Just make it quick. And painless."

Victor winked, giving Yuuri that same heart shaped smile. "No promises will be made on _that_ account."

Yuuko was currently fanning herself off after witnessing Victor's wink from up close, and Victor's coach was waiting at the exit, beckoning Victor in Russian.

"I wish I knew how to say 'good luck' in Russian. That would've been _perfect_ ," Yuuko lamented as Victor shouldered his duffel bag.

"It's _удачи_ ," Victor provided, his eyes on Yuuri.

"Ohh, удачи. That's easy. Well, удачи!" Yuuko gave him a small wave, and Yuuri's face was quickly blooming scarlet.

"W-Wait, what were you making me say to you _all this time_?!" Yuuri would have felt betrayed and angry, had Victor's devilishly handsome smirk not blinded him already. "I will tell you when I return. See you both soon!"

So, Victor had tricked him. It hadn't been the first time, and it probably wouldn't be the last. He felt a little stupid for treating the newly learned phrase as something special between them, but Victor said he'd be coming back soon, so there'd be plenty more time to get mad at him for it.

Compared to what happened, this would be the least of Yuuri's problems.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slight angst at the beginning, smut in the middle, and an introduction at the end! Go figure~ (happy early birthday, Victor!)

His coach knew Victor had sprained his ankle weeks before the competition. A mistake in the way Victor landed a jump, something neither of them could've prevented, but it happened. It was too close to competition to rest it off, so Victor bucked up and worked through it. Victor rushed through the healing process, taking breaks only when absolute necessary. His ankle never really fully recovered before he threw himself into practice again. He brought this upon himself, stubbornly refusing to quit. Victor didn't let his coach have any say, not when he seemed to be perfecting his technique despite the injury, so his coach didn't see any reason to persuade him off the ice or out of the competition this season. In all of Victor's pride and confidence, he put himself through inordinate amounts of denial.

People didn't know it at the time, but Victor was in a very large amount of pain.

They wouldn't know, because Victor was a very accomplished actor. The pain persisted, but his drive to win surpassed that. Even when skating hurt beyond belief, or his ankle had swollen so much he couldn't walk, Victor wore his pretty mask and faked it. He wasn't letting his record go. He wasn't about to let his career idle over a _sprained ankle_. Just a sprained ankle.

Well, the sprain worsened the more he overworked it. Over-the-counter pain medications weren't working anymore.

The pressure threatened to surmount him. He wasn't the youngest figure skater gaining attention anymore, and it was only a matter of time before someone else replaced him in the spotlight.

Pain. Skate through the pain. But it _hurts_. Skate through it. _Skate_.

He had his routines down like clockwork. Victor knew exactly how to lean his weight, how to change his footing to keep off his right foot most of the time. He and his coach had gone over this many times before. _Skate_.

It was the common fear of losing his usefulness. He felt that skating was all he had. If he lost that, he felt like he lost himself. He couldn't disappoint his many fans, or his coach. And now, there was _Yuuri_ he had to impress.

Meeting someone like Yuuri was... unexpected. In an ice skating rink, he didn't expect _anyone_ to not know who he was. And besides that, Victor never thought he'd actually meet the _Katsudon Guy_.

Before sprained ankles and flirting with glass wearing, Japanese boys, Victor was looking to change locations from his primary residence of Russia. He'd already found a coach from the older days of skating, once a skater with a decent win record who'd retired a decade ago and moved to Japan. Victor remembered the night he was curled up on his couch with his childhood pup, blankets pooled around him as he searched through his laptop. He'd attend the local university there, so he started exploring the website, opening a link to one video tour, which was undoubtedly made by students for a class requirement.

Midway through, this video starred a certain skating virgin, who looked like he couldn't bear to take his eyes off of his meal for five seconds.

_"Yuuri! Tell us what you love about this school."_

_Yuuri's bite paused midair as he looked up above the rim of his glasses, his cheeks easily coloring as he caught sight of the camera in his face. "I- -uhh- -their katsudon is... uh-uhhmazing."_

_The student hidden behind the camera not so coyly whispered in encouragement, "C'mon, Yuuri, get into it more. Make us believe it!"_

This was the point in which Victor rolled his eyes, looking along the side of the webpage for more information.

_"I- -uhh- -LOVE THEIR PORK!"_

Victor's whole body startled, and his dog leaped excitedly over his lap at the sound of Japanese shouting.

_"There you go! More spirit!"_

_Yuuri stood up out of his seat with nervous energy, jumping when his chair clattered onto the floor behind him. "DON'T PICK UP THE CHAIR, YUURI! Just GO!_

_"THEIR KATSUDON IS- -AH THE BEST! I LOVE IT!"_

_The anxiously eager male was soon joined by two other members heading their group project, one lifting the bowl and the other cramming the food into Yuuri's mouth. It was like some messed up Japanese version of peer pressuring at a frat party._

Victor's laughter rang clear through his home, his canine barking excitedly. The scene was so stupidly perfect that it _had_ to be staged. This guy Yuuri _couldn't_ have been so easily influenced or gullible enough to be convinced into shouting and being gorged in public.

Victor couldn't wait to find out.

So, Yuuri wasn't _entirely_ his reason for coming over to Japan, attending the university, and working under a new coach. But it was safe to say that Victor wasn't leaving the place without at _least_ meeting the Katsudon Guy.

It was destiny that Yuuri worked the counter at the ice rink, and bitterly crushing for Victor when Yuuri didn't know him by his fame. Yuuri had never seen Victor skate, and he didn't care about that aspect of him. Victor had been very much looking forward to using his status to impress him. However, Yuuri always looked like he'd rather be somewhere else. So, Victor worked his way in little by little, using what he knew of the boy in the video. Yuuri was constantly unsure of himself, and Victor was pretty sure he could convince Yuuri to murder someone, if he felt like it.

One day, his persistence had paid off. Something in Victor had kind of been fulfilled on that zamboni, when the two seemed to finally become friends. Yuuri didn't worship Victor's skating, or his gold medals, or the vast number of followers he had on his social media. Yuuri seemed like he genuinely cared about Victor, and for the first time in his life, Victor cared about someone in return.

So imagine the pressure when Yuuri finally _did_ see Victor skate. Imagine the dread that encompassed him when Yuuri noticed the bandage wrapped tightly around his sprain, or the shame he felt when his ankle gave way and he almost fell had Yuuri not caught him.

He was not going to let Yuuri down. Victor brought him into this world of skating and beauty, and he fully intended to show Yuuri much more of it.

Victor took his place on the ice on the day of his competition. He was the last to skate among his competitors. Pressure. _Pain_. His figure skating outfit reflected the gallantry of his hidden sacrifice, his prince-like indifference to pain. This was his world. This was his and Yuuri's world, and all of this belonged to the two of them. Yuuri was going to watch him win gold.

He started off well. He was moving the crowd and judges in the beginning, he could feel it. Pain was second to him. Winning came first. _Win_. Victor executed his first of five jumps, and the crowd roared. Four more. Only _four_ more.

His ankle wobbled on the landing of his second jump. His rhythm delayed a beat, before he quickly caught up with the music.

His third jump came. By the time he realized his ankle gave way into the landing, he was already falling back onto the ice. He caught himself on his palm, a lucky chance, but his ankle quit on him again. He missed his one chance of smoothly transitioning from his fall, and he skid onto the ice hard, hands and knees first. The music blared, but he could hear the crowd's collective reaction. Victor clawed his way back up onto his left skate this time, but when he tried putting his weight onto the right side, he collapsed again. His body trembled in disbelief and rage. The humiliation and shock kept him down. The _pain_ tore him in two.

The spell was broken.

As if matters couldn't get any worse, _he_ broke along with the spell.

His fist slammed into his injured ankle, and then again, when the tears started spilling. Work. _Work, damn you_. He heard scraping on ice that didn't belong to him, and from where he laid on the ice, he could see the medics surrounding him. Victor wanted to fight this, as hard as he'd been fighting the sprain, but he slowly pushed himself up into a seated position, and let them help him up. The music stopped. Things were eerily quiet.

It was all over. It had to be.

Two syllables sounded out of nowhere. It caught on, and the whole stadium was chanting. _Victor. Victor._

Off the ice, Victor was eased onto a bench with his foot elevated. They removed his boot and assessed the damage that he'd already knew was there. One medic supported the extremely swollen ankle, asking frank questions as he manipulated Victor's foot this way and that, and _yes_ it hurt, it hurt so much that he couldn't stand it.

He cried for the pain. He cried for his fans, still supporting him after his major screw up. He cried because he'd messed things up and there was nothing he could do about it.

Victor was disqualified, unable to skate because of a stress fracture.

Victor's coach received heavy criticism from fans, other coaches, and competitive skaters worldwide. There were death threats, open verbal attacks in the media, and untrue rumors spreading about the hellish conditions poor, innocent Victor had been subjected to in his training. There was no convincing the media otherwise. Any time Victor tried to defend him, it was always seen as some twisted form of manipulation; Victor's coach _threatened_ him, or some such preposterous thing.

His coach held one last press conference before resigning.

"Victor and I were both aware of his condition, and we knew it was worsening. I won't pretend to deny that I wanted his success as much as he did, whatever that meant." Even the press was getting harder and harder to control, crying in outrage over their wronged, darling skater.

"But Victor needs your support and your love far more than I need your hate and criticism," he announced, demanding silence. "As requested, I'm turning in my resignation. It will not make things right; _Victor_ will have to do that, when he recovers."

There was a minor surgery, and lots of rest. Victor had never wanted to jump out of his skin so much, but he was under heavy scrutiny, and there was no way anyone would let him near the ice. After the press conference, more and more attention was turned to him. He hated the pity he received from fans and equals alike, the shame of having his own coach resign for something that wasn't his fault.

He hated not seeing Yuuri, but Victor knew he couldn't face him. Not like this.

Victor stayed in Russia for a month, and he got used to the itchiness of his cast. He watched the video of Yuuri about a million times more. He watched his performance that turned to shambles, and after another month, he could laugh about it. His cast had finally been taken off. Victor was allowed weight bearing privileges.

The skater had strayed back onto social media, regarding his fans and all their support, steadily coming back to life once more. For what seemed like an eternity, he didn't have skating, and it was a little disconcerting going back to it all. He needed to go back to Japan before he did anything else. He needed to see Yuuri.

Victor thought of someone else discovering his little Katsudon _Angel_ , and he felt so damn jealous he couldn't book the flight fast enough.

Yuuko helped Victor into the building before Yuuri came in to work. She was a little annoying and overly attentive to Victor, who repeatedly assured her that he could walk just fine and _no_ , his ex-coach was _not_ holding him hostage.

She left him alone in the building upon his request, his footsteps solely echoing throughout the empty space. He stretched some. He sat down and tied on his skates, having saved his first time on the ice _since_ for this very moment. He wasn't planning to go into a full routine, but he'd at least get his bearings since it'd been awhile. He wasn't in any sort of the usual practice gear. Victor was very casually dressed in a long sleeved v-neck, a pair of jeans, and a furlined coat that reached his waist. None of this felt natural.

He thought he'd feel more conflicted when he stepped onto the ice, but everything cleared for him instantly. He couldn't remember when skating didn't hurt. His body was a little cautious after so long without it, but soon he was skating the rim of the rink as he always had, alternating between quick glides, then letting the momentum carry his body away. He was on the opposite side of the rink when he heard the double doors slam open, his attention drawn to the very alarmed ravenette on the other side of the room.

Their bodies stilled as their minds tried to process it. The feelings rushed out of Victor, his body lurching from his fixed spot, the suddenness of it sending him to his knees. He was still a little wobbly with skating, nothing hurt now, but he had to get used to it again.

Yuuri responded immediately, rushing onto the ice without a second thought. He was wearing sneakers, but honestly he wouldn't have done any better on skates as he slipped over, his arms waving to the side of him as he tried to balance himself. The look on his face quickly told Victor that Yuuri _realized_ this wasn't such a good idea, but Yuuri flailed forward, ending up slipping to the ground, ceaselessly pushing himself up until he met Victor head on in a hug.

Needless to say, the Russian was knocked back onto his ass, his knees raised as Yuuri wiggled in between them, wrapping around his shoulders. "W... What're... you..." Victor breathed in disbelief, his arms reaching underneath Yuuri's hold, grasping at the back of his sweater as he guided Yuuri further, pressing their bodies close.

" _Victor_ ," Yuuri's voice trembled, his hands grabbing fistfuls of Victor's hair and his coat, feeling the ice start to melt through his pants from where his knees touched the floor. Victor heard his name called once, again, and his eyes slid closed, reveling in Yuuri's familiar accent. Yuuri's grip on his hair was tight, but it gradually loosened, and soon he was gingerly cradling Victor's head closer. "You're okay now? Your ankle, it doesn't...?" Yuuri didn't pull away or loosen his hold, Victor supporting most of his weight as he sat there.

"... I'm alright, Yuuri. My ankle, it's healed and... I want to redeem myself." Victor hadn't gone to the public with this, yet. After the routine gone awry, he hadn't made much of anything public. He could feel Yuuri underneath as he started to slowly stroke his back, compelling the other to relax further. "I'm here, now," he reminded softly, brushing his lips over Yuuri's exposed neck. The other pulled back hearing that, his reddened eyes donning tears as he got a good look at the figure skater's face.

Yuuri shoved Victor by the shoulders, the hood of Victor's coat shielding most of his hair from the ice, cushioning the back of his head. It was the first time Yuuri had looked so angry, and it made Victor feel small. "What _took_ you so long?" Yuuri demanded, his hands fisting at Victor's shirt, hovering over him. He could feel the cold seep through his clothes, but the thought of Yuuri hated him chilled Victor to the core. His gloved hands cradled Yuuri's elbows, his voice quiet. "I was... in a dark place. I could not let you see me like that," Victor confessed, jolting as Yuuri _'s_ head of hair brushed down over his chest, his breath quietening.

Victor sighed, comforted by the body heat above him. His hands stroked over Yuuri's back, as long as it took for Yuuri to calm down. "Light or dark I don't _care,_ I wanted to _be there_ for you."

 _"Yuuri_." Victor called, guiding Yuuri's face from his chest. Yuuri's eyes were still wet, and one look at Victor had the tears rolling down his cheeks. Victor gingerly swiped his thumbs underneath Yuuri's glasses, holding Yuuri's round cheeks in his palms. It was selfish and a little evil, but Victor knew Yuuri would listen to anything he said at this point.

"Come to Europe with me."

Yuuri's eyes widened, his face lifted, hovering over Victors. "I- - _what_?!" Victor could feel the heat emanating from Yuuri's cheeks, and he pulled his face closer, his expression demure. He kissed Yuuri, soft and slow. It was a dirty trick, kissing Yuuri after saying something like that, ensuring that Yuuri wouldn't resist. He knew how slow to take it, how to dip Yuuri's chin with his thumb until his lips parted, letting Victor deepen the kiss.

He knew when to stop, too. Yuuri was just leaning into it, getting the feel of Victor's lips for the first time, when Victor pulled away, letting his head plop back into his hoodie, staring up at Yuuri through his glasses. He'd seen desire in others before, and Yuuri was no different, sucking in his lower lip between his teeth as he longingly traced the features of Victor's smooth face, drawing him closer. Yuuri leaned in after Victor, mumbling against his lips, "S... _Seriously_ , Victor?"

The silver haired walking wet dream pressed his lips more firmly into Yuuri's and something melted in him, making the bashful act seem all the more real. " _Come with me_." Victor's fingers scooped up Yuuri's glasses from his face, gently catching it on his nose before he was pushing them completely off, and Yuuri was trying to withstand the barrage of warm, lingering kisses over his closed eyelids, and his nose, breathing through parted lips. "It's definitely a _way_ bigger deal than you're making it sound... and you're... you're _kissing_ me. 's _so_ unfair," Yuuri whined, silenced by another breathless kiss, hearing the frame of his glasses clatter on the ice beside him. Victor's hands were moving down, simultaneously stroking down and up his thighs.

"Kiss now, talk _later_ ," the Russian spoke softly, unable to hide the want his voice betrayed.

Yuuri pressed down into Victor this time, his lips fervently kissing Victor until he could feel the skater swoon underneath him. His tongue rolled out in his eagerness, Victor reciprocating with an unbridled moan lost between them. Yuuri's hand pushed past Victor's coat, feeling him through his shirt all the way to the small of his back, holding his body up into his own, dragging his tongue over the roof of Victor's mouth and feeling his body _arch_ into him. Victor's hands pulled in between Yuuri's thighs and Victor was quickly finding the Japanese male in his own pants, cupping below with one hand and stroking over the girth of Yuuri's length with the other, making him gasp sharply.

" _Victor,_ I've never- -"

"- - _Me too_."

Yuuri stopped at that, pulling away with a thin strand of spit between them. Victor's cheeks were blooming with a brilliant red, looking equal parts impatient and ambivalent.

"No, that's- -" Yuuri looked around them, his hand still secure around Victor's back as he scoffed, "You're _Victor Nikiforov_. You've got like, girls and guys wanting you 24/7. There's no way you're a..." Victor's eyebrows pulled in, and his hands pulled away from Yuuri, frowning. "... _Are you_?" Yuuri whispered, his face dipping in after Victor's.

Victor was definitely sulking. "Is that bad thing?" His hair fell in his face as he turned it away from Yuuri's scrutiny. He felt his hair brush away from his face, realizing it was Yuuri's gentle touch tucking it behind his flushed ear. "No, of course not. I just... can't _believe_ how lucky I am." Yuuri was watching Victor's beautiful frown fade into something more akin to puzzled embarrassment. _Cute_. Victor leaned in again, and this time it was _his_ hand reaching below Victor's waistline. His fingers spanned over Victor's member, tangible through his jeans. Yuuri couldn't believe how hard Victor had become just from a kiss, gripping Victor in his jeans and watching the pleasurable torment flicker over the young Rusian's blessed visage.

Victor was quiet, the two of them listening to the sound of the pop of Victor's button coming undone, followed by his zipper as it was tugged low. Victor didn't mind the way the cold ice burned at his back, feeling warm when Yuuri cast those eyes full of desire directly onto him. Yuuri's hand clumsily pushed past the waistband of Victor's briefs, his fingers cool compared to the warmth of his core, tensing Victor's body.

" _Sorry_ ," Yuuri soothed, leaning in to get a better look at Victor without glasses, watching Victor's thighs spread for him, pushing his cock further into Yuuri's tentative grip. Fingers spread down to the base, his thumb leaving a trail behind, squeezing Victor's thickness as he dragged his hand back up, feeling just the slightest throb within his fist. Yuuri's eyes danced up over Victor's face, and he was simultaneously pulled forward into a kiss, sloppy and open on Victor's end as he conveyed his need. Yuuri was happy to see Victor so undone, rewarding him with quicker strokes until Victor's legs were squeezing hard around his waist, and suddenly Victor was shoving Yuuri's shoulders downward.

"V-Vi-Victor?" Yuuri's face neared his own hand as it pumped Victor's length, feeling lewd for watching it up close, when Victor compelled him _so_ sweetly, " _More_ , Yuuri."

Yuuri couldn't have asked for a more erotic sight, his openly expressive darling offering himself up and encouraging Yuuri to do lewder things still. Yuuri parted his lips and directed Victor between them, feeling the soft head trickle in past his lips, his tongue initially swiping over the head and underneath his fat length, tasting him with a stutter of a moan. Victor above him cooed and reached for Yuuri's short, soft tufts, directing him further. Yuuri's mouth was everything hot, wet and velvety soft, Victor lifting his hips just to feel his cockhead grind against the inside of Yuuri's cheek, making it bulge. " _Yuuri..._ excellent..." Victor directed himself toward the back of Yuuri's throat, his fingers gingerly brushing over Yuuri's flushed cheeks until they hollowed and sucked him down, and Victor's head fell back, sagging with effeminate sounds he hadn't even known he was capable of producing.

Fingers pulled down Victor's jeans and his briefs further, Yuuri becoming slowly addicted to the thought of fitting more and more of Victor into his mouth, retreating back just an inch only to slip in two more, moaning thickly around the cock in his mouth as he felt blunt nails scraping over his scalp. Yuuri's hands flattened over the base of Victor's hips and his head swiveled down further, taking Victor in deep until he hit the back of his throat, entering the snug confines of his throat. Soon Victor was forcing Yuuri's head away and pushing him back on until Yuuri picked up the rhythm, more smoothly fucking his face once he got used to alternating between sucking and breathing.

"ваш рот... чувствует себя _так хорошо..."_ At this point, Victor's cock was weeping more of his particular taste onto Yuuri's tongue, swallowing the excess down his throat. He pulled his mouth off of him, his tongue and lips kissing down the side of him, running that glistening cock over his cheek as he dragged his lips over Victor's sac. "сделать меня диплом..." Victor begged, too excited for Japanese at this point but nonetheless conveying his need. Yuuri teased Victor halfway back into his mouth, his dark eyes boring fire into Victor's soul as they shared that moment, and Victor was spilling his seed into Yuuri's mouth without any warning other than his throaty gasps.

Swallowing it down slowly, Yuuri drank him in and slid himself off of Victor, whose body quaked underneath him, his fingers bunched up in the shoulders of Yuuri's sweater. Desire was still palpable in the air between them, Yuuri's cock swelled in the confines of his pants.

Victor pulled Yuuri by his shoulders, tugging him closer until he fell prey to his desperate kisses, Yuuri letting Victor ride out the after effects of his orgasm through needy kisses, until Victor was satisfied. Yuuri's hands ran through Victor's hair, bunching it up as he broke the kiss and whispered, "P-Probably should... get off the ice."

Victor smiled, kissing cheeks that were as red as his own. " _да._ Yes. If you can _stand_."

"... I'll just crawl."

Yuuri maneuvered himself over the nearest wall and Victor put himself away before skating to the exit, slowly collecting himself after his first _very_ intense orgasm, at the hands of someone who _shouldn't_ have been as good as he was.

And Victor was quick to initiate reciprocation once his skates were off, and Yuuri was finally manning the front entrance, his back to the glass doors.

Yuuri's clothed cock was receiving much deserved attention from Victor's curious fingers, the Japanese male beaten thoroughly by that wickedly pretty smile. " _Ohhh,_ I can't r-really do that... kind of thing h... _here_." Victor palmed him through his pants and Yuuri's eyes rolled back, holding onto the counter behind him for dear life. Soon the talented figure skater was falling to his knees behind the counter, his coat slipping off the slim slopes of his shoulders, his hair billowing around him as soft as silk. "But you can do it on the _ice_?" he spoke in a soft moan, his hands running down and up the span of Yuuri's thighs, his lithe body mimicking the motion in the way his back arched and his ass rolled up and down over the ground, until Yuuri drowned in the rhythm and was pushing himself up into Victor's hands. "Point t-tay-... _taken,"_ Yuuri stammered, bucking his pelvis up into the air as the button was released, and Victor's hand was purposefully dragging over that wonderfully hard cock as the zipper pulled down. Victor was shimmying Yuuri's pants down over his waist, marveling at the bit of softness in Yuuri's body that he'd discovered earlier. He rose higher on his knees, kissing his pillowy abdomen, his eyelashes brushing down the further he went. Before his lips even reached the other, his fingers were retrieving Yuuri from his underwear and treating him to slow, firm strokes, making Yuuri sag against the counter in a heady grunt.

Yuuri's cock was a little darker than his own pink, but the two of them were uncut and Victor could find himself getting used to Yuuri's natural scent of arousal, all that'd been building up since their first kiss. Victor moved his face closer, all the more thrilled by Yuuri's eyes on him, his tongue seeking the head of him languidly slow, teasing in slow suckles of his lips as he pulled the skin down, indulging in the most sensitive part of Yuuri as he writhed above him, his cock twitching against Victor's pleased smile. "It's so _hard_ for me, ангел. _Angel_." Victor's fingers held the skin down at the base, tonguing the underside of Yuuri's tip until precum dribbled from his tip. Yuuri didn't feel like an angel in that moment, staring into those blue eyes that just _knew_ they held him captive.

But Victor was _easily_ an angel. One hand left the support of the counter to brush his palm over the shape of Victor's head, pulling some hair from his face to bunch loosely up in his fingers, feeling through the silky tresses as Victor did what he did best, putting on a show for Yuuri and making him come undone.

" _Victor_ , p-please- -nyah, _ahhGod_ , your mouth..." Yuuri couldn't get over how soft Victor's hair was, how skillfully his tongue sought out each and everyone of his weak spots, and how pure and utterly _sexy_ Victor was on his knees, his ass jutting out behind him, winding as he moved his mouth over the shaft and the tip, never fully slipping him in. Yuuri had been trying to beg for that, but words weren't escaping him as well as he thought they'd be, and soon he found himself taking his own cock out of Yuuri's hands, guiding him closer by his hair, and pressing his tip in between Victor's soft, kissable lips. Victor obediently slid more of Yuuri in, finding it thrilling that Yuuri was feeding his cock into his mouth, as if using him for his personal pleasure. Victor's hands remained on his lover's thighs, letting Yuuri pull him back by his hair before his splendidly thick cock was sinking in deeper. Victor's face started moving back and forth, fluidly fucking his own face on Yuuri's cock, watching how his glasses drooped over his nose as he intently watched Victor, his body taut with desire above him.

Victor choked on his cock and then did it again when he felt Yuuri throb in his mouth.

"'s so cuh-close, _Vict- -_ mmnh... _haahh_ ," Yuuri couldn't last through those sounds Victor made in the back of his throat as he swallowed down cock, Yuuri fucking into his face with a tight grip on his hair. "Good, so SOgood, _uhn_!" His expression fell apart into ecstasy, pumping his load down Victor's throat, slumping back against the counter as Victor quickly pulled away and cough, his hand covering his mouth.

Yuuri caught his breath, apologizing as he released his hold on Victor's hair. "Sorry... _ngh_... that was just _so..._ " He watched Victor regain himself, misty eyed from arousal as he stood and lazily pressed Yuuri into the counter, his fingers manipulating Yuuri's softening cock back into his drawers. "Good?" Victor finished for him, opening Yuuri's mouth with his own, kissing him with his taste. Yuuri wasn't really a fan of it until Victor so lovingly introduced it, nodding into the kiss. "Mhm."

"We can do so much more, when you come with me."

"... So you're gonna bribe me with sex? Is that really what we've come to?" Yuuri frowned, the heat in his cheeks remaining at the sight of Victor's keen smile.

"You can't _spread me open_ from four thousand kilometers away, my sweet." Victor's hips rolled up into Yuuri's, making his body jump a figurative mile.

"That's a uh- - _nother_ good point, Victor."

* * *

\- - Sheremetyevo International Airport, Russia. Three weeks later - -

* * *

Victor was coming back to figure skating. His ankle had fully recovered, and he was returning to his motherland to train until the next series of competitions. Yuuri was with him. A nameless face that'd been budding in popularity ever since he'd shown up in Victor's selfies. The reality of Victor's fame hadn't sunk in until the large mob of fans and paparazzi decided to throw an impromptu press conference onto Victor as he endeavored to hand out autographs and pose with as many fans as he could, security attempting to restrain back the hoards and inadvertently pushing Yuuri out of the group as well.

Yuuri skidded away from the group, watching how much fun Victor seemed to have in the middle of it. Maybe some celebrities tired of the endless mob that was their fan base, shrinking under all the attention, but Victor seemed to glow more brightly in it. Smiling, Yuuri picked a safe spot away from the crowd, hoping to wait it out on a bench until the chaos dissipated. He dragged his suitcase up to the side, calmly placing his hands on his lap.

It was then that he noticed the boy sitting next to him.

His head turned toward the other occupant of the bench, seeing his legs hang over the seat, not yet long enough to let his toes touch the ground. He wore a bright, orange hoodie, scattered with black stripes, the body of it white like the belly of a tiger. Blond, fluffy hair leaked through the hood he wore, hands stuffed in his pocket. There was a backpack on him, and little orange, matching shoes. If Yuuri could speak Russian, he'd compliment the lone boy on his cool jacket, maybe strike up some conversation with him, when he realized the child looked to be a little too _young_ to be alone.

Then, the smallest sound, just a slight sniffle.

Yuuri's head briskly turned toward the small blond, seeing him raise a shaky fist up to his eyes, rubbing into them. _Oh no._ There had to be something in Russian that Victor'd taught him, something he could use to help.

"Uhm... uhh... ty... poryad... ke?" _Are you okay?_ Yuuri would be surprised if the other could understand him, his shoulders bunching up as intensely bluish, green eyes centered on him narrowing much too darkly for a seven year old. The boy whipped his head away, choosing to ignore the foreigner, though now his bottom lip was trembling and he seemed to be having a harder time holding back the tears.

"Po... poteryalsya!" Yuuri tried again, trying to redeem himself, concern deeply etched into him, hoping Victor would hurry up and maybe some real progress could be made. Yuuri was sure he'd be ignored again, when an angry, broken sounding, "Я потерял мой дед," mumbled out of him.

Yuuri had no idea what that meant.

He whipped his head around, looking for some means of any hint as to what that'd meant. The crowd was slowly dispersing, Victor nowhere in sight.

"I-It's gonna be _okay_ , little guy. W-We'll find your parents n' if not I guess I have a kid with _really_ cool taste in hoodies and _that's my life_ _now_ so- -oh God please stop crying, 'm so sorry- -" Now both of the boy's little hands were pressed up into his face, his shoulders trembling, and Yuuri's ringtone went off, his hands unable to find his phone soon enough. " _Victor?!"_ he bellowed, eyes searching around for any sign of the silver haired skater.

"Ah, never mind. _Found you_."

Yuuri's face whipped behind him, watching as Victor smoothly pocketed his phone, stepping around his frantic partner to see the little tiger having a quiet, gasping break down. "There's this _kid_ but I can't speak Russian for crap and I'm _pretty_ sure he's lost."

Victor set his luggage aside, kneeling down before the child with a small smile, tapping on his knees and sweetly calling out something in Russian in order to soothe the crying blond. Yuuri was sure no child could resist just how inordinately bright and pure Victor could be, which was why Yuuri was surprised to see the boy looking even _worse_ just from the sight of Victor.

"Oh~ I know _you~"_ Victor smirked happily, his expression all the more pleasant when something was obviously darker about the way he addressed the child.

" _You're_ supposed to overtake me someday? Not when you're crying all alone at airports, _Yuri_."

Yuri slapped Victor's hands away and exploded in very clear, succinct Russian, letting his rage easily surpass whatever fear and sadness he'd felt before. The Japanese male was shocked, watching Victor roll his eyes and rock back, standing up on his feet. Victor softly murmured a command in Russian, taking Yuri's little hand in his. Yuri looked like he'd fight it after how he yelled at Victor, but with his eyes centered forward, he bit the bullet and followed the older Russian as he walked. The foreigner walked along the other side of the child with his luggage in one hand, occasionally looking down and thinking to himself how sweet Victor would be as an older brother.

They'd walked to the information desk, Victor describing the problem to an attendant, while the lost boy waited by Yuuri's side, looking up hopefully once Victor returned and the woman's voice sounded over the intercom, calling for Yuri's grandfather.

" _This_ is Yuri. He skates in the junior division. Yuri, скажи привет." Victor introduced, seeing the willfulness and spite return to the child now that he was no longer sad, stubbornly folding his arms across the small span of his chest. "From now on, we will both be instructed by same coach." The age difference didn't matter, Yuuri could detect the rivalry between them.

"Hello, Yuri! I-I'm Yuuri, too." Yuuri tried introducing himself, receiving a look of minimal interest from the younger male. "Victor, could you tell him I think his hoodie's _really_ cool?"

Victor didn't see how this was important in anyway, and he kind of wanted to fib the translation, but he did what his darling asked of him.

Something clicked in the boy then, who childishly pulled at the furred ears of his hood, stretching them toward Yuuri with little hops, animatedly speaking in Russian. Yuuri had no clue what he was saying, but he received the endearing gesture all the same, feeling the soft tiger ears of his hoodie when everything about the young skater urged him to. By the time Yuuri had finished petting the ears, the lost grandfather had returned to his charge.

The boy clung to the waistline of his grandfather in a big hug, happily drying off his tears into his grandfather's coat as he man thanked Victor, the two having already met each other through meets and practices. Yuuri shook an offered hand, receiving what he was sure was a heartfelt thank you, but in Russian.

"It's no biggie," he tried to convey in his own tongue, before his eyes swept over Yuri, trying to impatiently tug his grandfather toward the exit, before Yuuri's foreign features caught his attention again, and Yuuri was trying to communicate with him again.

"I look forward to seeing you skate! Я тебя люблю~"

Yuuri had it so ingrained in him, that _that_ meant 'good luck', he forgot its true meaning had been entirely something else. He watched little Yuri's face turn darker shades of red, the young boy abashedly struck in love without having meant to be.

Yuri's grandfather looked over at Victor, as if he knew somehow it'd been his fault. Victor grinned back at the man, Yuuri scrambling to explain himself.

" _Welcome_ to Russia... already flirting with other men and we've _barely_ entered the country," Victor teased, his arm looped around Yuuri's waist as they waited outside for their cab after interacting with Yuri _Plisetsky_ and his grandfather.

" _Hah_. You should've told me what that meant before. Now I've scarred a seven year old."

"No, you scarred him with that atrocious _Russian,"_ Victor leaned his head on Yuuri's shoulder.

"... You said my accent was _cute_... hope you're _happy._ " It was meant to sound dry, but it sounded a lot more loving than Yuuri could help.

Victor's smile melted into Yuuri's neck. "I _am_."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heavy Yuuri x Victor smut then heavy Yuuri x Yurio x Victor fluff

There's always about five seconds of fleeting peacefulness that teases Yuuri, until it ends by the sixth second. Unfailingly, Victor woke him up with smooth, chaste kisses, almost _urging_ as he reminded Yuuri of his presence, pressing his body close. Yuuri felt him underneath the covers, his lower lip tiredly rubbing over Victor's.

"Awake?" Victor asked as if he couldn't feel Yuuri's comforting hands running down his hips, sneaking in soft squeezes to his ass. Victor passed a sweet sound and rolled underneath Yuuri, pushing the others pants down his soft waist.

Yuuri's eyes snapped open, feeling warm hands waking him up down below. " _Awake,_ " he replied quietly, his face dipping into Victor's neck as his hips stuttered into Victor's hand.

Mornings had never been so much fun for Yuuri.

No matter how many times Victor kissed him or touched him, it always managed to get Yuuri hard and ready for him without a moment's notice. Yuuri was also always eager to reciprocate the physical affection and drink in every moan and shiver returned to him.

" _Shirt_ ," Victor was reduced to one word sentences, moving up the hem of Yuuri's pajama top with one hand while the other was busy with the rhythm of his constant stroking.

Yuuri, obviously frazzled, reached for the hem Victor tried to lift up and stuffed it back down, taking hold of Victor's wrist to kiss across his palm, until he was sure he'd distracted Victor with his tongue as it shyly grazed over the Russian's wrist.

It wasn't a secret that Yuuri thought less of his shape, but he wanted to keep Victor in the grey about it for a _little_ while longer, at least. There was not one thing about Victor that could've _ever_ deterred Yuuri's lust. But Yuuri, on the other hand... well, no one had ever really seen him naked before, and he felt his body wasn't much to be proud of. Victor was just so _into_ him that Yuuri was afraid Victor would lose interest if he saw. It was silly and selfish, but he wanted to keep Victor interested in him as much as possible.

He'd imagined it many times: the look on Victor's face during the big _reveal._ Yuuri couldn't seriously imagine Victor licking his lips and appreciating each subtle little curve Yuuri possessed. No, what Yuuri imagined was something he also couldn't handle. Victor's gaze would most likely turn distant, maybe he'd snicker a little, or smile out of pity. Those were options that had him fighting Victor when he tried to undress him completely, or sneak in a shower with him.

Victor might've been a little less dose of this shy when they were first living together, but the Russian soon outgrew it once he learned that the less clothes he wore, the quicker they could have _sex_. Yuuri didn't mind this thought, taking every opportunity to see his lover so eager to show himself off. Yuuri wanted that confidence, just a little bit of it.

Sometimes he got a touch of confidence when they were having sex, like now with Victor underneath him, erratically moving his hand over Yuuri's cock while his own was fondled and stroked quickly. Yuuri leaned in and kissed that moaning mess beneath him, capturing each little hiccup of a moan as he delved his tongue between his lips, kissing his eager lover just as often and well as he liked it. He slipped his tongue away and Victor chased after it, needily grinding himself up into Yuuri's hand with fluid rolls of his hips. Victor wasn't concerned with getting Yuuri's shirt off anymore, he didn't need it off to _finish_ , instead grasping onto the material and forsaking Yuuri's cock to cling to the male above him, red-faced and wide eyed and excited beyond euphoria as he came quietly, his cock drooling with the after effects.

Victor was quick to pull Yuuri's head down for another kiss, opening Yuuri's mouth to his own, all the while emitting these playfully _pleasant_ mewls that had Yuuri quickly jerking himself off to completion. As Yuuri came, Victor smiled sheepishly, pretty and naughty and everything else in between.

Why was Victor so _into_ him?!

When Victor had taken Yuuri to his practices, he'd seen just how good looking the other Russian skaters were, how famously well they'd gotten along with Victor, and Yuuri was doubly suspicious. He watched Victor interact with others from his seat on the bench, smiling at Victor whenever he looked his way, and shyly waving whenever Victor called him. The long haired sweetheart had always looked that extra touch happier when he looked at Yuuri, who knew that Victor could never be anything but completely honest with his feelings. So, Victor wouldn't settle himself with someone he didn't really want.

Yuri, or _Yurio_ , the name Victor graciously _bestowed_ upon the younger Russian ever since he got fed up with his lover and that _demo spawn_ possessing the same name... well, Yurio regularly kept Yuuri company as he stretched, secretly in it for the vast compliments Yuuri paid him on his talented flexibility. Today though, Yuuri's eyes were on Victor, much like they always were, and even when Yuuri _spoke to him,_ it was about Victor.

"He's pretty popular, isn't he?" Since the airport debaucle and the newly found friendship, Yuuri discovered that Yurio knew about as much English as he did, which was limited, but it was loads better than playing charades and more convenient than having Victor translate, especially since he was prone to manipulate the speaker's intended words to suit himself. Yurio couldn't even count on one hand how many times Yuuri had unintentionally called him 'stinky' and 'gross' in Russian, though he didn't blame the Japanese angel one bit. Yurio was _convinced_ Victor already knew just how much he liked Yuuri, and Victor obviously didn't mind being petty toward a seven year old.

Yurio rolled his eyes as he went through his stretches, mood souring at the mention of his rival. "My grandfather says I should be more friendly like him, so I can _collect_ more friends." Yuuri wasn't sure if _collect_ was the right word for it, but he didn't want to be rude and correct Yurio, or embarrass him.

"I'm sure your grandpa just wants you to be happy and _collect_ lots of friends! Mine's the same way."

 _See? We both have grandfathers. We're_ perfect _for each other_ , Yurio wanted to say, but didn't.

"I don't need _many_. _You_ are my friend, that is enough."

Yurio kept his hands on the wall, stretched his waist from one side to the other, and pretended not to be embarrassed. Yuuri had _stars_ in his eyes.

"Y-Yurio! That's so... so _sweet!_ " The younger boy only looked over his shoulder to see the shameless adoration the foreigner wore, his own expression muddied in red. "It's just the _truth,_ " he quickly denied _any_ sweetness, but he couldn't help the goofy grin as he turned his face away from the other.

Yuuri thought a little about it, once the flattery wore off. "Don't worry about being like Victor or anyone else. It never hurts being a little more _friendly_ , but overall... there's no better way to be open and honest with people than by being yourself." _Preaching to the choir_. Shouldn't Yuuri practice what he preach, and accept himself? Victor had been generously patient with him so far, but potentially, Yuuri's hesitancy could wear that patience thin.

The blond finished his stretching, standing with his hands on his hips as he watched Victor land another flawless jump. Yuuri thought about Yurio growing up in this world, wondering if he'd catch on like Yuuri did, and his own smile threatened to overcome him. "You'll probably get _super_ popular and forget all about me!"

Yurio looked panic, shaking his head in a resolute _no_ , before Victor was skating their way.

"I'm finished, _Yuuri_." He leaned over the railing, his pretty light hair scattering over his shoulders as he delighted in the way Yuuri visibly swooned for him. His interactions were not so delicate with Yurio. "Yakov wants you in skates, now," he informed carelessly, placing blocks on his own skates as he exited the rink, occupying the seat next to Yuuri's so he could drape himself over him and let Yuuri pluck the ties of his skates off. Yurio watched expectantly, jealous but still childishly wanting Yuuri to acknowledge him before he practiced.

Yuuri looked up, first at Victor, before he was eyeing the young blond. "Oh! _Good luck_ , Yurio!"

_What am I, stale pirozhki?_

Yurio blew a huff into his bangs, which seemed doomed to always remain in his face as he placed on his own skates, refusing to watch more of Victor showing off with Yuuri.

"I stretch and we go home, yes?" Victor stood as soon as his normal shoes had been replaced back onto his slender feet, watching Yuuri dutifully pack his skates for him. "We're not watching Yurio practice today?"

Victor stretched slowly, shaking his head. "No, we tried that _yesterday_ , and it was so boring I could barely stand it," he primadonna grumbled, even now rushing to get home once Yuuri started watching the young, studious boy on ice. If Victor hadn't completely encompassed Yuuri's attention, he grew impatient. He had to physically push Yuuri from the rink when the Japanese male insisted on getting in one last goodbye wave to his new friend.

Before they'd left Japan, together this time, Yuuri acquired a small online job with the degree he'd earned that semester, which gave him the ability to be flexible and work with Victor's schedule, whenever he wanted him at practice. Yuuri thought he'd just distract Victor, but every time he watched him practice, it seemed it wasn't so. Victor's talent was absolute.

They walked the short distance between the professional rink and the apartment they now shared since Victor had moved from his main home. His only complaint was, "I miss my _Makkachin_ ," which Yuuri guessed was some piece of furniture too large to fit in their apartment. Usually when they came home from anything, Victor was impatiently tutting for Yuuri to unlock the door and open it, haphazardly closing the door with their bodies as he pressed Yuuri into it, his hair tickling Yuuri's neck as they kissed. The kiss would usually progress, and with the third flick of Victor's tongue into Yuuri's lips, the latter was _sure_ that this was definitely progressing, but Victor pulled away just as Yuuri started sagging on the door.

"I shower, _then_ we continue, Yuuri." His accent, sweet and lowly hinting at his tone, always leaves Yuuri on tenterhooks. When he realized Victor was serious about taking a shower, he awkwardly pushed himself off the door and started taking off his shoes, and coat, trying _not_ to look disappointed. Victor's showers were usually long, and Yuuri resolved himself into getting a little more work done in an effort to get his mind off of sex and onto something else. He sat at his desk, and started up his laptop, scooting in the desk chair. Soon his attention was fully diverted and he was making some good headway, the little knot between his eyebrows already in place before Victor could come by to smooth it.

Victor was in a soft, thin sweater that made him seem softer over all, and as he slid himself into Yuuri's lap, he filed his long, toned legs over the other side of Yuuri's lap, the legs of his boxers riding up his thighs. He wore a towel over the copious amounts of wet hair, which threatened to soak the shoulders of his sweater as he curiously watched the screen for Yuuri's work. There was no way Yuuri could finish work now, Victor would never let him, so he resigned and leaned back in his chair, softly drying Victor's hair off with the towel as if he were _born_ to do it. " _Alll_ clean, huh? Still can't dry your hair, though."

"Mmn I _can_. I just like it when you touch my hair." _Spoiled_ _rotten_. Yuuri loved it. His friends in high school had been the type to sit in a room together and debate as to which of the current idols were the cutest. Yuuri'd never gotten into the debates himself, but even he had a few he fantasized about. None of those girls compared to Victor, who squirmed in his lap because he _knew_ Yuuri was still hard from their kiss earlier, before taking one of Yuuri's hands in his own to drag up underneath the thin sweater. Yuuri reached up tentatively, thrusting his clothed cock up into that ready ass while finding Victor's nipple through touch alone, softly pressing it between his fingers. Victor met Yuuri in a small kiss, before looking down at the hand moving underneath his sweater.

"That's not... the _only_ place you like me to touch. Right?" Yuuri was getting better and better at dirty talk, only because Victor had been giving him lots of practice. It still sounded foreign and too much too innocent to be _nasty_ coming out of him, however.

"'m already _hard_. Does that answer your question?" Victor gave him a breathless smile, pressing his chest into Yuuri's palm as a finger swirled repeatedly over his nipple. Yuuri looked down into Victor's lap, delightedly surprised to see his bulge already firming in his boxers. Victor's body was much warmer than Yuuri's, and _so_ much softer, Yuuri thanking him with every caress he was allotted. "I want to... do _more_ , tonight, _Yuuri_. Is that okay?"

Just the way Victor playfully spoke his name had Yuuri's cock pulsing heartily. "Oh yeah. _Yes_. It's more than okay. Just- -uhh- -what was it you wanted to do?"

He knew Victor could tell just how lost he already was, how easily he could be pulled into whatever Victor asked of him. The light haired male seemed to get off from how easily Yuuri succumbed, his breathing becoming more and more shallow as his fingers fanned over Yuuri's neck, squeezing lovingly. "I... _cleaned_ myself. Down _here_." His hand pulled Yuuri's away from his nipple, letting Yuuri feel down the hidden swell of his chest, down the dip of his abdomen, until Yuuri's hand was guided directly over the globes of Victor's ass, his middle finger automatically swiping down in between Victor's ass cheeks. The Russian shuddered, feeling Yuuri's finger slip further, until the pad of his finger tapped over the cleaned rim of Victor's unused entrance. Yuuri couldn't swallow enough, having a hard time processing this as they breathed into each others spaces. "You mean you're... you're _sure_? You want this?" _You want **me**_? It'd taken some getting used to, how willing Victor was to go every step of the way with him, and with an affectionate laugh, Victor was reassuring Yuuri that yes, " _I_ _want you_ ," holding the sides of his face as he tilted Yuuri's toward his own, his lips messily pressing into Yuuri's until neither of them could wait any longer.

Gracefully Victor was sliding off Yuuri's lap and out from his hands, seeming to waddle awkwardly toward the bedroom as he usually did when he had to walk with an erection. The familiar sight had Yuuri grinning heartily, quickly saving his work and _hurrying_ once Victor shouted for him.

This was it. They were going _all the way_. It wasn't like they'd been saving it for a special occasion, the two of them had just been too desperate to wait for their release, and the quickest way to do that was frotting or sucking or _whatever_ did the trick for them. Plus, Yuuri had still been trying to hide his body from Victor, in vain.

Victor was already seated on his heels, sitting up on his knees over the bed they shared, the slope of his back deepening as Yuuri came in, and Victor's hands stowed between his legs, balancing himself on the bed with a wicked grin. "мой ангел!" he called to Yuuri, with so much happiness and excitement that Yuuri's heart nearly burst as he joined Victor up on the bed, capturing his lips just as wolfishly as Victor allowed as his slightly larger hands pushed up the sides of Victor's shirt, exposing him little by little. "Why do you- -" Another kiss, Victor nibbling his lip, "- - wear _clothes_ if I'm just going to... take 'em off?" Again, Yuuri tried his hand at riling up Victor just from words alone. But Victor played it up a bit, his cheeks flushing brilliantly. "It feels morenn... more _naughty_ when _you_ undress me." Yuuri was sure this little vixen had been sent down to please him and nothing else, not when he'd knew exactly what to do and say to get Yuuri leaking _precum_ through his briefs. Victor helped the sweater off of himself, the damp towel slipping from his shoulders in unison as Yuuri's hand automatically cupped his chest, sinking down below to start on Victor's boxers.

"You... you _too_." Victor was kissing little sucks over Yuuri's neck, the velvety soft inside of his lip dragging up the side, until he was softly smearing that same lip over Yuuri's reddened earlobe. "Take yours off, too."

Yuuri's entire body stiffened, his eyelids fluttered halfway closed as Victor kissed a spot behind his ear, before Yuuri remembered himself and found his voice again. "That's... uhm." Yuuri felt Victor's hands still against him, the kisses ceasing their steady touch, his eyes following Victor's face as it neared his own.

" _Without_ our clothes, this time. I want to see you." Victor grinned again, and Yuuri felt his heart breaking. There was no reason Victor should've been excited, he felt, but he instead insisted softly. "C-Close your eyes."

Victor's eyes narrowed suspiciously, his hands relaxing over Yuuri's shoulders. "Why do I need to close eyes?"

" _It's like a surprise,"_ Yuuri rushed, not sure what he could say to convince Victor. It seemed pretty hopeless at this point. Victor's eyes were still analyzing him, like he didn't believe Yuuri, but nonetheless he rested his lips over Yuuri's, firmly brushing their mouths together as his eyes slid closed. "Okay. I won't peek," Victor promised, and as Yuuri pulled back to assess his face, it seemed Victor wasn't planning on opening his eyes anytime soon. Yuuri's hands pulled away, slowly lifting up his own shirt and then quickly, because he's suspicious that Victor's not taking this chance to be mischievous. Yuuri's shirt's joined Victor's sweater on the ground, and his hand came up to fix his glasses, ensuring that Victor's eyes were closed. This gives Yuuri the chance to ogle him plainly, seeing that even while sitting Victor's hip is cocked out to one side, the curve of his ass and thighs in plain view, until finally Yuuri was completely bare. Yuuri's eyes barely left Victor before they were treading along himself, unable to resist comparing the both of them. There was nothing wrong with him, but _still_. He wasn't Victor.

Victor knew about Yuuri's strange determination to keep his clothes on during sex, and he wasn't having it this time. Even if he had to patiently close his eyes while Yuuri undressed, Victor would play along. Yuuri's concealment was in vain; it wasn't like Victor hadn't already gotten a good peek while Yuuri was asleep. Whenever they touched, he could feel how plump Yuuri's thighs were, how there always seemed to be just a _little_ extra around Yuuri's waist, and Victor was more than fine with it. He'd never admit it to Yuuri, who'd probably react adversely, but Yuuri's plush figure was _refreshing_ to Victor. He'd been surrounded by thin, frail ballerinas and figure skaters all his life. Yuuri was strong, and plenty, and _handsome_ besides all of that. He thought if he showed how comfortable _he_ was with his body, by walking around in nothing more than a towel or underwear, Yuuri would assimilate and have the same amount of confidence.

The bed moved as Yuuri shifted his weight. "Can I open them now?" Victor asked, too happy to sound irritated. Yuuri's weight left the bed, then pressed behind him, and Victor could feel Yuuri's chest up against him from behind.

" _May_ I?" Yuuri corrected, still nervous from the way his voice shook into Victor's ear. Victor loved this side of him too, the side that was hesitant and sheepish. Breaking Yuuri out of that shell was one of the funnest facets of the sex they had. Yuuri lifted Victor's ass up until he was up on his knees, his fingers dragging down Victor's underwear in sharp, long tugs. Victor kept his eyes clothes and sat his ass over Yuuri's thigh, feeling warmth and stickiness from sweat that'd already dried on Yuuri, presumably from the walk home, and their heated kissing from earlier. He felt his ass cheeks give way the further he moved his ass back over Yuuri's thigh, his shoulders resting over Yuuri's chest as he lifted his legs up, allowing Yuuri to rid him of his boxers for good, until Yuuri was helping him further onto his lap. Victor opened his eyes and kept them forward, stuttering Yuuri's name on his tongue as he pressed his ass back against the swollen, thick organ raised up in between Yuuri's legs. Flesh on flesh, Victor's eyelids drooped and he was holding himself up on Yuuri's thighs, rocking back to press Yuuri's dick against his own abdomen, grinding him in between Victor's ass cheeks with soft grunts. Yuuri's hands were grasping Victor's shoulders, one slipping Victor's hair over one side of his neck, so he could kiss the other.

Victor was slowly riding his ass along the length of Yuuri's cock, teasing more pre out of him and rubbing it into his ass cheek. "On the bed, there's..." Victor's hands were much too busy, and he wanted _Yuuri_ to do this, "Gel. It's to help... make it fit." That was as good of an explanation as Yuuri was going to get at this point, a breathy laugh ghosting over the wet skin of Victor's neck. He looked to the side of them, accessing the bottle of lube Victor must've acquired sometime previous, but no _condoms_ , Yuuri wanted to tease. He took his hands from Victor momentarily, squirting a healthy amount onto his palm before he reached around, warming the gel over Victor's cock in clean, wet strokes. Victor surged into Yuuri's hand, a throaty gasp pouring out of him as the sweet friction of Yuuri's lubricated hand swept up and down his cock repeatedly. " _Yuuri!_ "

Yuuri leveraged some lube onto his dry fingers, hugging the base of Victor's cock with his middle finger and thumb while his other hand maneuvered underneath Victor's ass, and soon he was exploring Victor's backside. Victor could feel the subtle press of Yuuri's middle finger as the tip just barely eased inside, immediately surrounded by a tight warmth Victor couldn't control. So Yuuri pumped Victor's cock in his hands, squeezing as he dragged his fingers up, until Victor's ass grew more compliant and Yuuri could feed him more of his finger. Just when Yuuri thought Victor couldn't handle it, his ass pushed back and more of those soft walls enveloped Yuuri's finger past the last knuckle, only to roll his hips upward and back down. He was fucking himself between Yuuri's finger inside him and his hand tugging on his cock, and Yuuri never knew there could be anything so entirely captivating.

" _More,"_ Victor challenged, turning his face over his shoulder to kiss Yuuri, even though both of their necks strained for it, he wasn't going to deter the Russian minx anytime soon. Victor sucked hungrily onto Yuuri's tongue, stuttering as Yuuri wiggled in the next tip of his finger, keeping the first buried inside as he slowly scissored the next, swirling when he could feel resistance, and starting to push in deeper when enough pumps of his cock got him relaxed enough. Victor was _so_ soft and tight, so warm and pliant, and by the time he'd gotten two fingers into him he still couldn't believe they were doing this.

Yuuri stopped kissing, wiping a drop of saliva over Victor's shoulder as he looked down below, intent on his work. He was slowly pumping two thick fingers in and out of Victor, who in all honesty felt the taboo of being stretched out by another man and loved it. With a sweet smile, he watched _Yuuri_ love it too. "How does it _feel_?" Victor asked plainly, and he felt the tips of Yuuri's fingers brush something deep inside him. He released a shudder, bucking behind him against Yuuri's fingers, making sure to rub his asscheek back against Yuuri's length until it pulsed against him.

Yuuri's hand slid off Victor's cock, fingers threading down and around his ball sac, giving them a few loving squeezes, lubing them up. "You're so..." He spread his fingers inside of Victor, slowly, feeling his walls automatically cling back to him when his fingers joined. " _Tight_ ," he croaked into Victor's ear, promptly licking into it. Victor basically clawed at Yuuri's knees, feeling those exploring fingers stuff themselves deeper into him, making his thighs tremble and squeeze around the hand that grasped his sac. There was more of him dripping onto Victor's ass cheek as he watched the long haired male succumb to him, his ass squeezing around his fingers, seeming to suck more of him in. "How does it feel for _you_?" Yuuri asked curtly, watching Victor's back arch against him, forgetting that Victor's hands were feeling up his abdomen, and over his thighs for reassurance.

"It's great, Yuuri. So- -ahn- - _good_... but I want to feel _you_ here too." Victor's long fingers found their prize, dragging up the shaft of Yuuri's cock, stroking some pre onto his wrist. Yuuri silently compared the thickness of his fingers and his cock. Two should be enough, right?

Slowly, Yuuri's hand pulled his fingers out, and Victor braced himself over Yuuri's thighs, letting the transaction go quietly between them, seeing as how Victor was so turned on he couldn't ramble as he usually did, and Yuuri was trying so hard not to hurt Victor. Yuuri's other hand readjusted over Victor's hip, lifting him just a bit off his lap, using his thumb to spread a pliant ass cheek from the middle. The fingers that'd been inside of Yuuri wrapped around his cock, feeling warmer and softer than the rest as he lowered Victor, his cockhead pressing up against Victor's opening.

Victor gasped, but he didn't tell Yuuri to stop. Yuuri looked over the kiss marked shoulder, down each visible vertebrae of spine, down down to the plump ass that weighed in his hand as he gently nudged the tip right between Victor's ass cheeks. The tip was hard work, he was slow about it until Victor's ass swallowed the head all at once, Victor's ass giving way so quickly that Yuuri choked on a groan, stopping to let Victor adjust. He watched Victor nod, and something about this steered _wrong_ in Yuuri. Why weren't they looking at each other. Why couldn't he see Victor's face right now?

Yuuri eased further, inch by inch, feeling his tip fan out Yuuri's ass the deeper he went, until Victor's ass was rooted to Yuuri's lap. It felt _so_ good. Any little movement he made, and Victor was already clamping down around him. Yuuri's swollen cock was throbbing deep inside of Victor, whose head hung low, slowly catching his breath. This felt _so_ good. He could feel every tremble of Victor's body against his own, every twitch of his ass, as Victor was anchored onto him.

But he couldn't see his face, and that was a problem.

With a small sigh, Yuuri kissed a shoulder. "I'm going to... lay you on your back, okay?"

"O... O-Okay."

God, he couldn't even begin to imagine how excited Victor looked if he was already stammering. How was he supposed to do this buried balls deep inside Victor? Cursing himself for not having the forethought, he gently lifted Victor's hips again, languidly pulling his cock out in little swirls, until Victor realized what was going on and started grasping for Yuuri's hips. " _No_! Nono," Victor begged, trying to grind his ass back down, but by this point Yuuri's cock was already sliding up in between Victor's crack, teasing the both of them. Yuuri shushed him affectionately, kissing Victor's neglected body as he gently lowered him over the bed, hovering above him this time, moving in between Victor's legs as the latter spread them on his own. He knew Victor was watching him, his eyes had full access to Yuuri's body now, but if that meant he could see the absolute euphoria on Victor's face as he pushed in, then it was all worth it.

Yuuri held up Victor's legs, pressing them against Victor's chest as he guided himself in a second time. " _Yuu... rii_..." Victor's expression spilled into pure bliss and Yuuri drank in every drop, gently pressing in until there was no more left to give Victor. Hair framed Victor's face and Yuuri leaned forward, his hands treading down each thigh until his waist was in his grasp, rolling his hips out and back in to give Victor his first thrust. " _So pretty,"_ Yuuri mumbled as Victor pulled him closer, parting his lips to feel Yuuri's tongue slip inside and taste every inch of him, sighing into the kiss when Yuuri pulled out and pushed in again, then another time, until Yuuri's hips were gaining a steady, slow rhythm. Victor's ass was nonetheless tight, accepting each of Yuuri's thrusts, sucking him in when he tried to pull out. "Ngh... _hahh_... ahh..." Yuuri used his leverage on Victor's hips to propel himself in deep, constantly teasing a certain spot inside Victor until he hit it directly, and Victor _growled_. Yuuri aimed for that spot often, inducing louder sounds into the kiss, until Victor was so undone that he couldn't kiss anymore and all he could focus on was taking Yuuri's cock, and squeezing his thighs around Yuuri's waist.

Lips brushed over Victor's neck, sucking more marks over him, his cool glasses meeting warm skin as he took the previously neglected nipple between his lips, kissing and nipping until its pink turned dark red. Yuuri never stopped his movements inside Victor, only increasing their force as he moved onto the next nipple, turning it that same shade as he gently pulled on it between his teeth, and Victor was throwing his head back, his hands massaging Yuuri's scalp.

Victor came between them too soon, his body locking up, melting around Yuuri's cock as the pleasure mounted him. Yuuri almost wasn't sure what was happening until he pulled away from Victor's chest, seeing how flushed Victor's body was, with drops of his cum scattered over his torso. Victor's face turned toward the side, and he closed his eyes as if trying to hide the embarrassment while Yuuri started to ride him again, rutting into his ass until the wet smacks grew louder, and Victor was already getting hard again. The embarrassment Victor wore beautifully only encouraged Yuuri further, gasping breaths forcing out of him as he tried to last as long as possible, fucking his lover's tight ass until one murmur of his name out of those perfect lips, and he brought them both to orgasm.

Yuuri had been in a daze ever since then. Whereas Victor recovered himself quickly, already draping himself over Yuuri's naked body, drawing little swirls onto his chest with his finger, Yuuri still couldn't believe how lucky he was. Victor was acting as he usually did, maybe a touch more loving now that Yuuri had officially claimed his body. Victor was always passing his hands over his body without shrinking from it, dissipating a lot of Yuuri's fears. They started actually _bathing_ together, which Yuuri found was always more fun than bathing alone. Victor would always go into the shower or bath with good intentions, but he managed to always fall prey to his urges and succumb to them, which usually landed them in a messier shower than planned.

"... ri... _Yuuri_!"

The Japanese male snapped out of it, his eyes pulling away from the busy streetlights that glowed before them, his attention turning to a very disgruntled looking seven year old, who sat on the bench beside them. "You don't have to wait with me until Grandfather arrives. Sometimes he is late." Today, Yuuri had stayed behind to watch Yurio's practice and he was glad for it. It'd been about thirty minutes since the building closed, and the two were stuck on a bench, waiting for the child's grandfather to collect him. The first five minutes, Yurio had been suggesting that Yuuri leave and return to Victor, who was undoubtedly waiting for him at home after being too bored to stay for Yurio's practice. Now Yurio had been more insistent that Yuuri leave. The older male shrugged his shoulders, leaning back with his bare hands, which Yurio noticed from underneath his long, blond bangs. "I am _no_ child," he added stubbornly, earning a small scoff from Yuuri.

"I'm not sure what the cut off is here in Russia, but where _I'm_ from, you'd still be considered a child. And we don't leave children alone at night. 'specially when it's so cold." Yuuri's fingers were getting colder and colder by the second, having forgot his gloves at home. Yurio always noticed this.

"I am not cold, so you should go." Yurio averted his gaze, huddled in a warm winter coat, his legs folded up to his chest. "Go _home._ Grandfather will be here soon. You'd rather be with _him_ anyway, wouldn't you? Victor?"

Yuuri smiled, his breath visible as he laughed. "Nah. He can _wait_. I like spending time with you too, you know." Yuuri's eyes followed Yurio's, and he swore he could see the hints of a smile. The subject changed, and Yurio was motioning toward Yuuri's hands with a nod of his head. "Your hands... are they cold?"

"Oh." Yuuri picked them up and examined them, bringing them close to his lips to breathe warm air against them. "Just a little. It's my own fault for not bringing gloves."

The younger considered that, his own hands gloved prophylactically, understanding the cold Russian winters and the quick damage they could do to peripherals. Any native understood that. Yurio was childishly fearing the mortality of his fingers, and at the same time he wanted to reward Yuuri's kind presence.

" _My_ hands a-are warm." Yurio snuck one of his small hands out of his pocket and reached for Yuuri's, yanking his cold hand so quickly that the action was most definitely premeditated. Yurio had thought about this before and often whenever he'd seen Yuuri without gloves. Before Yuuri could process, he was stuffing that larger hand into his coat's pocket along with his own. He was sure his flush spread all the way to his hands, feeling his quick pulse through the dilation in his fingers. He wasn't sure what kind of expression Yuuri made right now, but he felt the larger hand tighten around his own.

"Well, my other hand's cold too." His voice was mischievous. Yurio looked up at the adult, unsure and worried for the other hand. What would become of it? Yurio would love Yuuri even if he only had one hand, Victor surely wouldn't. Maybe this was for the best?

" _Haha_ , I _think_ this'll work." Yuuri's hand left the pocket, and he brazenly lifted Yurio by the hips. Yurio panicked a little until he was plopped onto Yuuri's lap. It felt so soft and _so_ warm underneath his tush that Yurio automatically relaxed, a soft sigh spilling from his small lips. When Yurio leaned back against him, he felt that Yuuri's chest was warm as well. This was heaven for the little seven year old, who squeaked as he felt two cold hands join his in each pocket. Yuuri's chin plopped on top of Yurio's covered head, and he sighed happily. "You are _such_ a good helper, Yuri!" he sweetly commended the blond, who pouted from the myriad of delightful feelings. He hated his nickname, _Yurio_. Victor gave that to him. He liked sharing Yuuri's name, even if it got a little confusing. And when Yuuri said his name- - _magic_ happened.

"You're very warm. Is equal exchange," Yurio stated calmly, though Yuuri laughed into his hair and the boy thought his heart would _break_ from hearing such a happy sound.

More time passed, and Yuuri could feel the start of shivers in Yurio. "... Maybe we should get out of the cold. Your Grandpa can pick you up from somewhere warmer. Like Victor's place."

Yurio didn't like the idea, stiffening in Yuuri's arms. "But he's expecting me _here_."

"We can text him. Do you know his number? I'm sure he won't mind."

Yurio didn't have a cellphone, so he had no way of reaching the older relative. Yuuri pulled out his own phone to text the grandfather and Victor, letting him know they were both coming back. Messages were sent, and the two were heading toward the home Victor and Yuuri shared, holding hands.

"... Soo, what kind of food do you like?" Yuuri always resorted to these kinds of questions when there was little to nothing said between them. Yurio smiled, just a little.

"You like food a lot, don't you?" He asked plainly, and Yuuri grunted in actual pain, before Yurio spoke again. "Pirozhki is my favorite."

"Pee-roshh... kee?"

"Yeah! How do you say in English... They are little pies. Very delicious. My grandfather always makes them for me." Yurio cut himself off, and his steps slowed. Yuuri looked down, watching Yurio rub a little fist into his eye. He was _crying_. The poor little thing! God, Yuuri felt like an ass for bringing up a landmine. He really hadn't meant to do it. Then, Yuuri noticed a figure walking in front of them, and relief sang in his heart. _Victor_.

"Crying _again_ , Yurio? That is a bad habit with you, I've noticed."

Then again, when Yurio was upset, Victor seemed to make things worse.

"I talked with your Grandfather. He didn't want a crybaby for a grandchild, so you're spending the night with us." Victor knelt down in front of Yurio, wrestling him onto his back to carry the rest of the way.

Yurio sniffled some more, letting Victor give him a piggyback ride, even though he detested the man and his stupid, _stupid_ long hair. "You're _lying_. What really happened?"

" _Work_. He says he was trying to get out of it, he'd been meaning to call me, but he'd been too busy." Victor sounded like even _he_ didn't approve, but there was no use complaining to Yurio about it. Yuuri walked along side him, unable to suppress the start of a smile as Yurio rested a tear-stained cheek against Victor's shoulder. It was definitely a warmhearted sight, one that had Yuuri smiling the rest of the way back.

Yuuri quickly burst through the front door, opening it and standing out of the way to let Victor and his young charge in. " _So warm_! Much better than waiting on a bench, yes?" Victor chirped loudly, easing a fussing Yurio off of his back, closing the door behind them as Yurio shivered. Yuuri knelt by the boy's side, running his hands up and down Yurio's arms to create friction. "How 'bout we warm up in the bath? Hmn?" he offered thoughtfully, Yurio unable to help looking as happy as he felt.

Maybe he should've held back on that account, because Victor became suspicious right away.

"There's no _room_ in here, Victor. Go away."

The three were immersed in the porcelain bath, Victor's hair styled up in a messy bun, Yuuri sighing in the steamy hot water with the young Yurio on his lap. Yurio's precious _alone time_ with Yuuri was ruined, and it was like Victor could sense this. It was cramped, and the hot water felt much too good to complain, but of course Yurio would trump over that.

Victor splashed some water over Yurio's shoulder, and the boy's smaller head plopped onto Yuuri's shoulder. "You want me to _freeze?"_ Victor asked, then interrupted before Yurio had the time to issue a reply. "Never mind. Sing _T_ _he Clumsy Little Bear_ song for Yuuri."

"The _what?_ "

Yurio lifted his face from the comfortable spot on Yuuri's chest with a pronounced, " _No._ " Victor gave him a little glare. "Yuuri would _love_ to hear it."

Yuuri nodded emphatically. "I'd love to hear it," he repeated, dipping his face lower only to have Yurio nuzzle deeper into his chest, his " _No,_ " muffled against Yuuri's skin.

So Victor's soft voice sang the Russian children's tale of the clumsy bear, and Yurio, not wanting to be outdone one bit, joined him.

_A clumsy little bear was walking through the forest_   
_He was gathering pine cones and singing songs_   
_A pine cone fell directly onto his forehead._   
_The little bear got angry and stamped his foot!_

The younger voice that was no less small had joined Victor's, and Yuuri could listen to the two sing children's songs to him all night long. They'd run through it once in Russian, and made a game out of translating it for Yuuri. Victor really _was_ good at distracting Yurio every time he looked the least bit sad, and Yuuri was grateful for it.

After the eventful bath, Yurio was dressed in the smallest pajamas either of them owned, which Yurio _swam_ in, and Yuuri was preparing dinner. Yurio had been tamed enough to sit on Victor's lap while the hair dryer filtered warm air through his wet hair, leaving it fluffy and warm. Next was Victor's turn, which Yurio took _very_ seriously as he sat up on his knees, handling each part of Victor's hair. Yurio's thin, little blond eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, his small nostrils flaring right in Victor's face. Victor couldn't help the laughter that escaped him from that ridiculously cute sight.

They ate at the table, and Yuuri realized just how differently Victor behaved. There weren't really any of the kisses Yuuri was used to, or the physical contact. Yuuri missed it, but even he felt that holding back now would be best.

"Why do you only have one bed?"

It was bedtime now, and the two had been preparing the nighttime arrangements. _Shit_. Yuuri was in no position to answer that, stammering until Victor saved his ass. "It gets cold sometimes. We share the bed for warmth."

 _Good thinking_! Yuuri was giving him a thumbs up, before an audible shiver leaked out of Yurio. And then another one, very badly faked as his little hands came up to wrap around his arms.

He looked dead serious, even with his own face betraying him with a flush. "I-I'm cold, Yuuri."

_CUTE_

_CUTE_

_CUUUUUUTE_

Both the adults knew Yurio was faking it, but that's what made it all the more endearing. So Yuuri swept the boy up in his arms, and Victor wordlessly tucked opened the blankets up for the two, until all three of them were positioned comfortably inside the warmth they all shared.

The next morning, five seconds of peace came to Yuuri, until Victor's warmth touched his lips. Yuuri responded in kind, slowly, until he realized just who'd been sleeping among them. " _Victor_ ," he whispered, moving his lips away. Victor parted and looked down between them at the blond, who was still sleeping peacefully, and drooling onto Victor's arm.

"He's _asleep_. One kiss won't hurt." Victor leaned in again, and Yuuri didn't fight it this time. "Or two." Another kiss. "Or _three_." Yuuri got the picture.

They laughed quietly before pulling apart, both of their eyes on the lil' sleeping skater.

"... How messed up would it be to just _leave him here_ and go for a walk?"

" _Victor_!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i love-love-loved your reviews and I thought I'd put in another goofy Yurio tidbit in there for now. No smut in this chapter

When Yurio woke that morning, the two adults were on either side of him, sleeping softly. He was on his side, his light, fluffy bangs distracting him from Yuuri's face. He lifted his small hand up to tuck them behind his ear, a few strands slipping back in his eyes, but despite that it was enough. Yuuri's cheek was mushed into his pillow, his face looking even rounder than usual. Yurio stole a glance back over his shoulder at Victor, who laid on his back, his arm stretched out underneath the child's head. The blond noticed the little bit of drool on his arm, the boy wiping the rest from his mouth, pushing Victor's arm away. Victor grumbled and retrieved his arm, turning around, letting Yurio plop his head on a pillow as he watched Yuuri.

He wasn't sure what his own face looked like now, not when he was watching Yuuri's lips purse and his eyes clench shut a little tighter.

He wondered what Yuuri dreamed about, or if he even _dreamed_. Maybe he was like Yurio, who forgot his dreams a good solid minute after waking up.

Yuuri's eyebrows unknotted then, a perfect sigh leaving him. and Yurio wondered if the intensity of his stare had woke Yuuri somehow.

Dark hair was messy along the shape of Yuuri's forehead, his eyes squinting lightly in the darkness created by the window shades. It looked like Yuuri was still processing what time it was and why there was a little, nervous looking Yurio staring at him, when a sleepy smile overcame him. Yurio stilled.

Yuuri rubbed his face further into the pillow, as if trying to wipe the sleep off. " _Mornin'._ " his happy whisper made _Yurio_ happy.

Yurio thought he'd died and shared a bed with an angel.

"You sleep a little more, 'kay? I'll make breakfast." Yuuri picked up the stray locks of blond hair and slowly dragged them over the side of Yurio's face and behind one of his small ears, where all the blood seemed to rush. Yuuri pulled his hand away, careful, and sat up off the bed, letting his feet touch the floor a few seconds before he was standing up and leaving the two Russians.

Sitting up slowly after Yuuri left the room, the younger's bangs lifted in a puff of air, and his eyes cast down to Victor, who turned to lay on his back again.

Maybe before Yuuri came into his life, the seven year old skater would've let Victor **live**.

He saw his one chance in the form of a pillow, which was so fluffy it would've been impossible to picture it as a murder weapon. No one would suspect a thing. Yurio would be able to live out his days in peace with Yuuri, who would come to all of his competitions and reviews, hold his hand whenever Yurio wanted, and do whatever it was that two people in love did. Yurio's knowledge of that was limited in all his innocence and inexperience.

Small hands grasped the nearby pillow and with a quick breath he pressed it over Victor's face. This was by no means a lethal push, but Victor awoke to the pressure over his face nonetheless. A quick thought, and his body convulsed sharply, dramatic enough that it startled a gasp out of Yurio. Victor's body went completely slack in faux-hypoxia a split second later, ensuring that his expression was blank and dead-eyed when Yurio finally did lift the pillow.

"... Hey." A small voice sounded. Victor didn't respond.

Victor felt a nudge at his shoulder, and then a harder nudge, until Yurio's hands were desperately pulling and pushing Victor's broader shoulders. "Hey! Wake _up_." Victor let his tongue hang out for added affect, and Yurio's panic spiked.

" _Victor_!" His small arms wriggled around Victor's neck and he was trying to squeeze his body back into life, certain that this was how they did it in the movies. Or was that the Heimlich? " _Please_ Victor, 'm sorry, wuh-wake up! _Please_ pleaseplease!" Yurio's face rubbed up the length of Victor's chest to look up at him, before diving his head down and resting an ear on Victor's chest, his fingers shaking. His own heartbeat was so fast, blood pounding loudly through his ears, that he could barely hear Victor's pulse. Or was that just his own?

Victor decided to cut the crap once he felt Yurio's tears start to soak through his shirt.

He sighed, and Yurio stiffened, his grip tightening on Victor's shirt. " _I'm_ the one who wants to cry," he murmured softly in their shared, native tongue, watching the awe and relief on Yurio's face as it lifted from his shirt. "What are you trying to do so early in the morning?"

Yurio sniffled, and Victor rolled his eyes, lifting the bottom of his shirt to dry Yurio's little pink, button nose. Yurio started blowing snot into it and Victor retracted his hand, face scrunched up in disgust. " _Brat!_ "

Yurio picked himself up as he sat on Victor's abdomen. "You pretended you were dead! That's not- - _that's not nice!_ "

"Oh, you do _not_ get to tell me what's _nice_ and what isn't." Victor was completely sitting up and let Yurio flail off of him, hurriedly taking off his dirtied shirt, his long, silver locks spilling forward over his shoulders and acting as a makeshift cover for now. "Any particular reason you want me dead? Other than, _you know_ , your inevitable defeat on the ice." Victor wasn't taking any of this seriously, he knew Yurio didn't _really_ want to kill him, or mean to do so, as silly as he was.

Nose dry, Yurio frowned and sat up with his hands stuffed in his lap. "Yuuri likes you more than me." He blurted out, and it hurt so badly that he wanted to cry even harder.

So he did.

Unlike Yuuri, who would probably panic at a time like this, Victor calmly watched the grumpy grade schooler have his fit, which was oddly enough quiet and very controlled. It made his little breathy sobs seem sadder, but Victor wasn't fooled into any sort of worry.

Victor wasn't about to correct Yurio with some silly thing like 'Yuuri loves us equally', because even a seven year old understood the difference between what the adults had, and the brotherly love that Yuuri showed Yurio. Still, Victor wasn't going to keep him crying, because Yuuri'd get mad at him. "C'mere." Victor held his arms open after patting a spot on his lap. Yurio didn't trust Victor one bit, so it took a little more out of the latter to convince him. "If you stop crying, I'll show you something he likes even _more_ than me." There were a few more sniffs, and Yurio was bringing up part of his shirt to wipe his eyes before clambering onto Victor's lap and plopping his butt down a little too hard. Victor cringed, but obediently opened up the link he'd bookmarked on his phone.

A few swipes of his finger and the footage started from where Yuuri made his entrance, and Yurio was instantly captivated, his eyes never leaving the small screen. His face turned an inch toward Victor's. "What is he saying?" Right, Yurio didn't understand Japanese.

"He's saying, he goes to the university for their pork cutlet... it's a- -uhh, Japanese dish."

Yurio giggled, hearing Yuuri shout from the screen. "What now?"

They must've repeated the scene about ten times before the two of them were cackling, finding their mutual funny spots. Victor laid down onto his back and Yurio joined him, watching the video as the elder held it up for the both of them. Eventually the door opened and Yuuri peaked his head inside, bringing the smell of cooked breakfast with him. "Victor? _Yuri_? What're you guys laughing about?"

The two Russian boys looked at each other before flashing their pretty grins at Yuuri, who finally heard his own voice issuing from the cellphone and reacted immediately with a huff. " _Victor_ , why do you keep showing people that? It's _embarrassing_."

"Our little demon _likes_ it. Look how happy he is." Victor poked the youngling's cheek, whose hands shot out and smushed Victor's face until he got his bearings. Yuuri was shaking his head and returning to the kitchen, leaving the others to themselves once more.

There was silence between them as they listened, Yuuri's 'I LOVE IT' sounding within the room, followed by probably the goofiest sounding chuckle Victor had ever produced.

"You're not going to... tell Yuuri about the pillow-thing, are you?" Yurio sheepishly asked, watching Victor exit out of the video and attend other things on his cellphone.

"Only if you surrender your bacon to me."

Yurio had resigned to give Victor his delicious bacon in lieu of hush money, but as they sat there and Victor polished it off, Yurio was reminded of why he never should've trusted Victor in the first place.

"Yurio tried to suffocate me with a pillow earlier."

The blond's face displayed both betrayal and fear, but before he could say anything Yuuri was already giving him a look.

"Murder is... _bad_." Yuuri spoke plainly, eyebrows raised as Yurio's face flushed with shame. "I'm bad?" he asked in a small voice, automatically resigned to live the rest of his life hated by Yuuri.

"Ye-"

" _No_. No, you're not bad." Yuuri leaned over the counter to soothe the boy, his hand reassuringly plopping onto Yurio's shoulder. Yurio liked how big and warm his hand felt. "You're a good kid. But if he goes, then..." Yuuri tried to explain what it would mean for Victor to be gone. "Who would've shown you the video of me?"

The blond was a little taken aback, a small smile returning to him at the thought of Yuuri stuffing his face. "And what about the quadruple... lats. Slats?"

"Lutz."

" _Quit interrupting, Victor_. Who'd teach you that if he wasn't there?"

"I'm not teaching _Yurio Bundy_ anything."

Yuuri exasperatedly looked over at Victor. "Hey, I'm trying to save your life here."

Any semblance of continuing that was lost, but Yurio seemed to have some semblance of understanding. Victor stuck his tongue out at Yurio, who returned the gesture once Yuuri's back was turned.

Yurio wasn't the only one who had eyes for the Katsudon Angel. Victor was sure that there would be more, and they wouldn't be little harmless blond figure skaters. No, they'd have curves and tits and whatever else it was that Japanese boys liked.

Yuuri wasn't convinced that _anyone_ was after him, so he was much more relaxed as he waited for Victor to come out of the restroom. They were at a public rink this time, because Victor planned to finally teach Yuuri how to skate. He waited with his rented skates on his lap, looking around at the other skaters, when he was approached.

"иностранец?" She asked, before cocking her pretty little head thoughtfully, and asking, this time not in Russian, "Can you speak English?"

Yuuri nodded, eyeing the auburnette with a small smile. "Yeah. I'm still not... used to Russian."

"I'm Mila. You haven't been in Russia for very long?" She gracefully took a seat beside him on the bench. He shifted towards her, politely regarding her as he spoke, "It's been a couple months, but... I guess I should've picked up a little by now, huh? I'm Yuuri." He grinned.

"Well, Yuuri, maybe you just need a proper _teacher_." Her hand skimmed close, brushing against the outside of his thigh. He slowly looked down to her fingers that started to tease over his leg. His eyes ran back up her body, just a _little_ , watching the smile widen on her lips.

Yuuri's thigh twitched out of her hand, and he knew deep down that this wasn't just some weird foreign custom. She was flirting with him, for a reason that was beyond him, and he needed to shut it down. "You probably mean well, Mila, and I _really_ appreciate the offer, but I've already got a... _proper teacher._ He's gonna teach me skating in a little while, too." Yuuri's feet tapped excitedly on the ground.

Her smile softened, her shoulders bunching up. "Is he _good_ at skating? I'm probably better."

Was she really talking about skating? The way she drawled it seemed to adulterate its meaning. Yuuri's cheeks flushed and he defended his boyfriend, "Oh he's _more_ than good. He's the _best_." Mila raised an eyebrow as he confidently folded his arms across his chest. "He can skate for _hours_ ," he added, wondering if he'd been silly enough to put her off.

"Oh?" She was trying to stifle laughter now. "How big are his _skates_?" Were they really talking about dicks now?

"They're, uhh..." Yuuri thought about it, genuinely. "It's pretty big." He laughed sheepishly, joined by her own soft chuckle.

"Well... it sounds like you're in good hands." She stood slowly, wearing a smile that had even _him_ reeling from it, just a bit.

But in the end, it couldn't even compare to Victor's smile and how it made him feel.

"I am. Thanks." He gave her a little wave as she walked off, leaning over to put on his skates.

Victor joined him on the bench moments later, and Yuuri could see the glimmer of his bright hair from his peripheries. Yuuri looked over as he laced his skates, seeing the way Victor tried to bite down a smile. He wasn't trying very hard.

"What was that?" Yuuri asked.

"Hm?" The innocent sound left Victor far too quickly, regarding Yuuri with so much internal excitement that it was a wonder Victor was containing it at this point.

Mila was skating around the rink now, and as she passed them she waved knowingly. Victor waved back, eyes returning to Yuuri. "Hurry! We teach you to skate now. We'll surprise Yurio before he shows up."

Yuuri wasn't really looking forward to skating. No, that was _Victor's_ thing. He'd rather watch Victor, or Netflix, either sounded appealing right when he'd initially stepped onto the ice. And promptly fell.

It'd taken about ten minutes to skate Yuuri halfway around the rink.

"... Wuh- - _OhSHI- -_ Victor, _Victor_ I'm _falling_!"

"No you're not. I have you right here... _show some dignity, will you_." Victor, probably the most confident man in the world, was starting to feel a little embarrassed as he looked over his shoulder, his long hair cascading down below the beanie he wore. "I'll leave you here, I _swear_ to god."

Yuuri's knees were wobbling as he held onto Victor's forearms, expression screwed in concentration as children at least ten years younger than him effortlessly skated past them. "If you leave me, I'll go home with _Mila_. Or- - _NGAH_ \- - _"_ The terrified shout attracted more gazes, and more heat flooded Victor's cheeks. Yuuri continued to speak. "M-Maybe that's what you wanted, huh? To pawn me off on some pretty girl- -"

Victor legitimately stopped, giving Yuuri a look. "You think she's _pretty_?"

Yuuri knew he'd messed up, but he still tried to redeem himself, seeing as Victor was his only ticket off the ice. "No, she's not pretty _,_ That was a slip."

"A _Freudian Slip_. You know, I'm _much_ more prettier than she is." Victor released one of Yuuri's hands, barely keeping him steady with one. Yuuri clung onto it for dear life. "I don't doubt it for a _second_ , Victor, I just- -sweet Jesus my _ankles_ \- -I already passed the test, didn't I?" His voice was even wobblier than his knees, and tears were stinging at the corner of his eyes. Victor's expression wavered, then hardened as he directed Yuuri against the rink's wall.

" _Long live the King_."

 _"_ Lion King?" Yuuri questioned, before he was being slapped over the wall. "Ack, _WAIT_!"

By the time Yurio and his grandfather made it to the rink, Victor and Yuuri had settled down and taught him properly. Yurio was already situated with his skates and the appropriate attire, completely fixated on the clumsy, but determined Japanese male on the ice. Yurio made a loud, happy sound and bounded toward the rink, unable to get his skates on fast enough. When he did, he was skating small circles around Yuuri, animatedly asking him questions about how he'd been able to skate and if Victor was bribing him with katsudon. The two held hands and skated as quickly as Yuuri could handle, which wasn't very quick, but it gave Victor a little break at least, and he skated toward the exit of the rink to grab something warm with Yurio's grandfather.

"I didn't get how difficult skating was, but... I mean for you and _Victor_... you guys are incredible." Yuuri mentioned, finding a little more balance as his younger friend helped him along. Yurio found everything about Yuuri's clumsiness to be endearing, and he liked playing the big, strong man that could protect Yuuri on the ice.

"I'm going to become a famous Olympic figure skater." He said it like it was undeniable fact, and Yuuri believed him. "Then I can take care of grandfather, and he won't have to work so hard. I will make him proud." Yurio squeezed the older male's hand, not noticing the hint of sadness Yuuri carried with them as they skated.

"You're a good boy, Yuri," he murmured softly, and Yurio grinned up at him, reveling in the praise. "Then you should let me take care of _you_ too. You will come to all my recitals. And whenever your h... hands are cold, I will warm them up." He shyly averted his gaze and Yuuri happily laughed, feeling the bit of freedom that came with floating over the ice. It was something that he could get used to, now that he was steadily gaining control over it. "I like the sound of that."

"горячий шоколад, Yuri." They were close to the entrance now, Yurio's kind grandfather holding up the styrofoam cups with the warm treats waiting inside. Yurio dutifully made sure Yuuri made it safely off the ice, but Victor had since placed down their warm drinks to help him off, thwarting Yurio's chivalry.

Yuuri looked up, starting to take off his skates as he accepted the hot cocoa. "Thanks," he cheerfully expressed. Even though Victor still felt a little pissed about Yuuri calling another person 'pretty' when that adjective was reserved solely for _him_ , he still thought the way Yuuri blew cool air over his hot drink was cute.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, feel free to hit me up on Twitter too c:  
> @Sofatagg


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